


Static on the Air

by Frequently_Humming



Series: Sound Waves [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Radio, Co-workers, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frequently_Humming/pseuds/Frequently_Humming
Summary: 'From the nation’s capital, DC105 presents Capitally Curious; DC’s one and only love and relationship talk show.  And here’s your host, Poe Dameron!'“Good evening, everyone,” Poe announced brightly, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.  “Congrats, you’ve made it through hump day, and we’d be happy to hear if any humping was actually involved.”  That surprised a genuine laugh out of Finn and Poe winked.  “Joining me as always is the one and only Finn Walker, still single and looking wonderful as per usual.”





	1. Just Another Show

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me out of nowhere and before I knew it, the first chapter was written!  
> When I was debating posting this today, I wondered if there was much demand for another Will They/Won't They workplace story, and I figured "why not? They're fun!" So here we go!  
> Hope you enjoy! :D

“Cutting it close, babe,” Bastian mentioned idly as Finn ducked into the small break room, unscrewed the lid of his water bottle, and began to fill it from the half-empty water cooler.

 

“Construction on I-95,” Finn answered with an annoyed sigh.  “I swear to God, they wait for Wednesdays just to screw me over.”

 

“Some people wait a lifetime to screw you,” Bastian said, cackling at the unamused stare Finn sent his way.  Bastian finished punching in his selection at the decrepit vending machine and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, waiting for the Cheetos bag to drop.  “Ready for another spectacular show?”

 

“Always,” Finn nodded, screwing the cap back on his bottle.  “You know Snap’ll kill you if you get that cheese stuff all over the soundboard.”

 

“I’ll eat em during your opening flirting session.”

 

“Shut up,” Finn rolled his eyes, heading back out and towards Studio Two.  Bastian fell into step beside him.  “How’s your week going,” Finn asked, genuinely curious but also to change the subject.

 

“Okay.  They’ve got me covering Karé’s slot on Saturday, so that’s cramping my style--,”

 

“Will the DC club scene survive without you,” Finn joked.

 

“No, it won’t.  It’s barely hanging on as it is,” Bastian said too seriously.

 

“Fair enough,” Finn chuckled.  He gave Bastian a small salute before pushing the heavy door open with his shoulder while Bastian went around to the sound booth.

 

“There you are.  Thought I had to do this rodeo on my own!”

 

“Hey, Poe,” Finn smiled, holding out a hand for Poe to clasp and draw him in for a quick bro-hug.  “Got stuck in some traffic.”

 

“No worries.  Just glad you didn’t leave me hanging,” Poe laughed, dropping back into his chair and swiveling back to his microphone.

 

“God forbid the relationship expert doing a relationship radio show on his own,” Finn teased, placing his water bottle on the table and shrugging out of his jacket.

 

“I keep telling you,” Poe shook his head, “if you read the right books, say the right answers, and write a few decent papers, you too can have a piece of paper that says you’re a relationship expert.”

 

“And I keep telling you to keep that under wraps or else you’ll be out of a job,” Finn laughed.

 

“Eh, they just keep me around for my pretty face.”

 

“Which no one sees cause we’re on the radio.”

 

“Finally admitting I’m pretty,” Poe asked, playfully.

 

Finn rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.”

 

“One minute to air,” Bastian’s voice came over the speaker.  Finn waved through the soundproof glass at his friend before taking his seat and adjusting the mic.  He folded his legs under him, holding onto the edge of the table to keep steady.

 

“You know these chairs adjust.  Modern technology is a marvel,” Poe winked.

 

“Maybe I like sitting on my feet,” Finn shot back with a smirk, enjoying their ritual pre-show heckling.

 

“You want to have pins and needles, be my guest,” Poe shrugged, nodding as Bastian flashed his hands for the twenty second warning.  “Ready?”

 

“As I’ll ever be,” Finn nodded, stretching his neck as Bastian did their final countdown before the red ‘On Air’ sign lit up and the intro started.

 

_From the nation’s capital, DC105 presents Capitally Curious; DC’s one and only love and relationship talk show.  And here’s your host, Poe Dameron!_

 

“Good evening, everyone,” Poe announced brightly, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.  “Congrats, you’ve made it through hump day, and we’d be happy to hear if any humping was actually involved.”  That surprised a genuine laugh out of Finn and Poe winked.  “Joining me as always is the one and only Finn Walker, still single and looking wonderful as per usual.”

 

“It’s in his contract that he has to compliment me at least ten times a show,” Finn said into his mic with a smile.

 

“It really is,” Poe agreed, playing along.  “Now, tonight’s topic is one of my favorites: first dates.”  Finn groaned playfully and Poe chuckled.  “We’ve all been on them.  We all have the horror stories, and hopefully some of us have had some successes too.  If you have a story to share, or have a first date coming up and want some advice, our lines are open and we want to hear from you.  Now Finn,” Poe said, turning his head slightly to look over at Finn, “what’s your go-to first date?  I see you as a nice restaurant and flowers kind of guy.”

 

“It’s like you don’t even know me, Poe,” Finn laughed, keeping his pitch low like Bastian repeatedly asked him to do.  “I’ll have you know I like a more adventurous first date.  Trying something different.”

 

“What did you do on your last first date,” Poe asked.

 

“Well, I was sixteen and--,”

 

“Nah, come on!  Be serious,” Poe grinned.

 

“Fine,” Finn smiled back.  “We went to this board game bar over in Dupont Circle, had drinks and played some pretty cutthroat Connect4.”

 

Poe blinked.  “That—was not what I was expecting.  Was it fun?”

 

“Yeah, I enjoyed it,” Finn shrugged.

 

“Did you kiss at the end of the night?”

 

“No, of course not,” Finn wrinkled his nose.  “You don’t kiss after a first date.”

 

“Oh come on!  When there’s chemistry, there’s chemistry!”

 

“I didn’t want to look easy,” Finn protested.

 

“That’s so old-fashioned, Finn.  Seriously, if there’s one rule in love it’s--,”

 

“—there’s no rules to love,” Finn finished flatly before chuckling.  “Yeah, I know.  Maybe I’m a little old school but I feel like you don’t know someone enough after one date to be exchanging saliva.”

 

“On average, how long do you make the other person wait before a kiss,” Poe asked curiously.

 

“I tend to take the Shi-Poo-Pi approach--,”

 

“The _what_?”

 

“Shi-Poo-Pi.  From  _T_ _he Music Man_?”  Finn snorted as Poe just gaped at him, forgetting dead air was killer.  “Okay, if you don’t know classic musical references after we’ve been doing this for over a year, I can’t help you, man.”

 

Bastian raised his fist in the sound booth and Poe nodded.  “Well, we have to take a quick commercial break.  On the other side, I’ll sort out this Shi-Poo-Pi nonsense and we’ll take your calls.  I’m Poe Dameron and this is _Capitally Curious_ on DC105.”

 

*****

 

“Great show, guys,” Rey said, wandering into the studio after Bastian took them off-air for the final time that night.

 

“You listened in,” Finn asked surprised while Poe stood and stretched.

 

“Caught the beginning while I was driving over,” Rey shrugged with a slightly wicked smile at Finn, who gulped nervously.  That look was never good.  “Anyway, I don’t start until after the news and weather.  Wanna grab some food?  Poe, you should come too.”

 

Poe smiled.  “Thanks for the offer but I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on that.  Got some papers to finish grading for my afternoon class tomorrow.  But next time?”

 

“I always forget you have a real job,” Rey commented as Finn stood and started pulling his jacket on.

 

“Eh, being a professor is basically an excuse not to leave school,” Poe shrugged, wrapping an orange knit scarf around his neck.  “I don’t know how you can do the overnight shifts.  I’d die.”

 

“You always say you’re a night owl,” Finn interjected.

 

“By necessity.  I didn’t choose this life, Finn.  It chose me,” Poe said, slightly dramatically.

 

“We’re off-air.  You don’t have to talk like that anymore,” Finn teased.

 

“Sorry, it’s hard to drop the Voice sometimes,” Poe shrugged apologetically, finishing buttoning his navy-blue pea coat.  “But, listen, next week we’ll all go out after, okay?  My treat.”

 

“I was gonna suggest the Shake Shack at the corner but we could class it up,” Rey suggested.

 

“God, all I want in the world is a milkshake,” Bastian moaned, joining them in the studio.  “We going now?”

 

“Yeah, and next week the milkshakes are on Poe,” Finn said.

 

“Kinky.  Save that for the show,” Poe said with an honest to God twinkle in his eye.  Rey and Bastian laughed loudly and Finn joined in a beat too late, but Poe didn’t seem to notice.  “I’ll see ya next week.  Have a good night,” he said cheerfully and headed out.

 

Finn shrunk back as Bastian and Rey rounded on him, grinning.  “So tonight’s show was more tooth-rotting-ly cute than usual,” Bastian stated easily.

 

“I could feel the chemistry through the speakers,” Rey agreed, turning to Bastian.  “How many callers just wanted to ask if the two of them are fucking?”

 

“Twelve,” Bastian announced.  “That’s two more than last week but still short of the all-time record.”

 

“Was that set during the show they discussed the finer points of fellatio or the one where they spent half the show setting two people up in a thinly-veiled attempt to ask each other out?”

 

“It was the blow jobs, as a matter of fact,” Bastian said proudly.

 

“I hate you guys,” Finn mumbled.

 

“How many more of these are we going to have to sit through before you combust from sexual frustration,” Rey asked, crossing her arms.  “If you burn down the studio, I will kill you.”

 

Finn shook his head and slid around them, moving to pull open the door.  He heard Bastian and Rey fall into step behind him.

 

“We just want what’s best for you,” Bastian said supportively, tossing an arm around Finn’s shoulders.  “And what’s best for you is to get laid by our resident relationship expert.”

 

“Who goes on the radio every week and talks about how he doesn’t think hook-ups are healthy,” Finn asked pointedly.

 

“If you want to take him on three dates before you put out, you do you,” Bastian shrugged.  “I’m just saying the putting out needs to happen.”

 

“As soon as possible,” Rey added with a smile.

 

“He’s not actually interested,” Finn grumbled.  “Like, for real he’s not.”

 

“Debatable,” Rey considered.  “But—maybe—he just sees you as a co-worker because you’ve been avoiding seeing him outside of the studio as if he’s Elmer Fudd and you’re Bugs Bunny.”

 

“Duck season,” Finn said under his breath.

 

“Rabbit season,” Bastian whispered back like he couldn’t help himself.  “But seriously--,”

 

“But seriously, can we just get our burgers and fries and not talk about me and Poe for five minutes,” Finn asked loudly, pushing open the glass door and walking out into the chilly spring night.  He noticed Poe’s car was still in the parking lot just as its lights came on with the start of the engine.  Without noticing what he was doing, Finn stopped walking and watched as the black and red Fiat reversed out of the parking spot, pausing as Poe undoubtedly changed gears, and then it cruised around the far side of the building, heading for the exit to the street.  Finn jumped as his arm was grabbed and yanked.

 

“It would be easier not to tease you if you didn’t do shit like staring longing at Poe’s car,” Rey informed him, dragging Finn off down the sidewalk.  There was a quick honk as Poe’s car drove by them, and as Finn squinted he saw Poe wave as he passed.

 

“And it would be easier to believe he isn’t interested in you if that shit didn’t happen,” Bastian added.

 

“He’s just a friendly guy,” Finn shrugged.  Bastian and Rey exchanged disbelieving looks behind his back before shaking their heads and continuing the walk to Shake Shack.     


	2. A Day in the Life

“I’m telling you, the Capitals aren’t making it past the second round,” Snap declared into his mic, glancing around the round table.  “They haven’t the last—what—nine playoff runs?”

 

“That’s because,” Finn jumped in, leaning forward, “the way the playoffs are structured is asinine.  Look at who we are basically guaranteed to face before the third round: the Flyers, the Penguins, or the Rangers.  The Metropolitan division has become so stacked since it was created.”

 

“Not to mention the Caps are probably cursed,” Iolo cut in with a grin. 

 

“That too,” Finn agreed with a chuckle.  “But I still think we can make it to the Stanley Cup final this year.  I feel good about it.”

 

“And I’m saying no way in hell.  Not with the Rangers and the Penguins having our number, and Columbus is still looking strong,” Snap pointed out.

 

“How ‘bout a friendly bet,” Iolo suggested.  “Loser donates $150 to a charity of the winner’s choice?”

 

“Perfect,” Snap agreed.

 

“You’re on,” Finn nodded, grinning.  “And I’ll tell you what—Snap, if I win, I’ll match your donation.  Adopt All Orphans is my pick.”

 

“I like your style, Walker,” Snap laughed.  “And _when_ I win--,”

 

“Oh damn,” Iolo said.

 

“—when I win,” Snap continued, “I’ll match your donation to TAPS.  Deal?”

 

“Deal,” Finn nodded, holding out a hand.

 

“Shake on it,” Iolo said for the listeners.  Snap griped Finn’s offered hand tightly and Finn hissed a small ‘ow’ for effect.  Iolo chuckled.  “Sealed the deal.  And with that, _Sports Cabinet_ is over for the day.  Thank you for listening.  Tune in tomorrow for a round-up on the Nationals spring training and Finn’s poetic waxing while reviewing the Caps’ game tonight--,”

 

“Hey,” Finn said, mockingly offended.

 

“Until then,” Iolo continued cheerfully, “I’m Iolo Arana, filling in for Jess Pava.”

 

“And Snap Wexley,” Snap chimed.

 

“And Finn Walker,” Finn smiled.

 

“And this was _Sports Cabinet_ on DC105,” Iolo finished, with a thumb’s up to Karé in the sound booth as she took them off air.  “Well that was fun.”

 

“Can you afford that bet, kid,” Snap asked Finn concerned as Finn stretched his arms behind his back.

 

“Chill, I can manage,” Finn said, wincing and then relaxing as his shoulder popped slightly.  “I’m not actually broke; that’s just a shtick for the listeners.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Iolo shrugged while Karé moseyed out of the sound booth and leaned casually against Snap’s side.  “Finn, did Lando get a chance to talk to you yet?”

 

“I haven’t seen him this week,” Finn answered, starting to put his notepad and laptop away in his brown leather messenger bag.  “Why, what’s up?”

 

“Well, we’ve got an empty spot on the morning show,” Iolo shrugged, pushing a pen behind his ear, “and we were thinking of giving you a try out next week.  If you’re interested.”

 

“Wait, seriously?”  Finn gaped.  _The Morning Crew_ was the highest-grossing morning show in the area; consistent listeners, sponsors, the whole shebang.  It basically kept the whole station running.  It was the big leagues, and the closest Finn had ever gotten to it was working the phone lines for a month back when he was just starting out at the station.  “You’re joking.”

 

“No, I’m not,” Iolo smiled softly.  “We think you’ll be a good fit.”

 

“I’ve only been here two years.”  Finn didn’t know why he was trying to talk himself out of a promotion but his mouth was moving faster than his brain.

 

“And in two years you’ve gone from filling in late-night slots to a spot on the daily sports show--,” Snap started.

 

“Lando just took a chance on that,” Finn mumbled.

 

“—and,” Karé continued loudly, “co-hosting the love show with Poe--,”

 

“I still don’t know how that happened,” Finn muttered as he pulled his denim jacket, which was too light for the weather but whatever.

 

“It happened because you and Poe could talk about brussels sprouts and make it sound _fascinating_ ,” Iolo smirked.  “And that’s what we want on the _Crew_ ; young, fun, energetic to balance out my and Jess’s cynicism.”

 

Finn blinked.  “I really just play off of Poe.”

 

Iolo, Snap, and Karé shared smirks.  “Funny,” Karé commented, “cause Poe said the same thing about you.”

 

“Well, I’ve gotta run home and feed the cat before _CC_ tonight,” Finn said loudly, swinging his bag over his shoulder and starting for the door with a wave over his shoulder.  “See ya tomorrow!”

 

“Have fun tonight,” Snap called.

 

“I heard Poe’s taking you out for a late dinner,” Iolo grinned as Finn caught the door from closing and shot the three a glare.

 

“He’s taking a bunch of us to dinner.  Stop trying to make it something.”  Finn released the door and marched off, not appreciating the obvious cackling and stomach-hugging happening on the other side of the soundproof glass as he headed for the exit.        

 

He made his way to the front door, tossing the empty paper coffee cup in the trash as he went by.  As he emerged into the sunlight, Finn squinted and pulled his sunglasses out of the collar of his black t-shirt, where he had hung them earlier.  He started towards his car when a hand grabbed his arm and Finn jerked around, fist raised.

 

“Jesus, kid.  Relax.”

 

“Sorry, Han.  I don’t like being snatched,” Finn rolled his eyes and looked from the hand on his arm to Han’s face, frowning.

 

 “You should call your dad, kid.”

 

“Why?  What’s wrong,” Finn asked, already pulling his phone out, checking for any news alerts.  If something was seriously wrong, CNN would probably know before he did.  Seeing none, Finn glanced back at Han.  “He’s okay?”

 

“He said he hasn’t heard from you in over a week,” Han answered, crossing his arms.  “He wanted me to make sure you’re still breathing.”

 

Finn groaned, closing his eyes briefly.  “Yeah, okay.  I have to run home to feed Zuri; I’ll call him on the way.”

 

“That’s all I ask.  Don’t be late for your dating show thing.”

 

Finn shot him an unimpressed look.  “You know what it is.  You’re playing dumb on purpose.”  Han smirked and shrugged and Finn just sighed and headed for the parking lot.  He unlocked his Ford Focus and climbed in, starting the car and connecting his phone to the Bluetooth before he buckled his seatbelt.  He selected his dad’s number and reversed out of the parking spot.  The call rang twice before he heard his dad pick up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, Dad,” Finn replied, smiling and directing his car out to the street.  “Han said you were worried about me.”

 

“I always worry about you,” came the calm and truthful answer.

 

Finn sighed.  “If you got internet out to that cabin of yours I could set it up so you can listen to the station.  So you’d know I was alive?”

 

“Or you could check in with your old man once in a while.”

 

“I try to!  I’m not avoiding you!”

 

“I know, Finn.  I know.”  Luke cleared his throat before continuing, “There was something I wanted to discuss with you, if you have some time.”

 

“I have at least half an hour before I get home,” Finn answered.  “I’ve got to head back to the station later for CC, ya know.”

 

“Of course.  I won’t keep you.”

 

Finn heard Luke heave a sigh and started to feel concerned.  “Dad, is everything okay?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes.  I am—strongly considering moving back into the area.  Or at least visiting for an extended period.”

 

Finn blinked.  “Back to—DC?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why,” Finn asked hesitantly.

 

“I think I’ve hidden long enough, don’t you?”

 

“I always thought it was stupid that you’re hiding yourself away in the mountains,” Finn shrugged.  “But you never mentioned moving before.”

 

“Leia called me over the weekend.”  Finn swallowed and then made a slight hum for Luke to continue as he merged onto the highway.  “My…services may be required again.”

 

“God, where?”

 

“Don’t worry, Finn.  You’re not in any danger.”

 

“Me?  You’re the one who runs into warzones,” Finn said around the lump in his throat.  Finn’s whole childhood was defined by his dad going into active warzones, negotiating ceasefires or mediating peace deals.  When Finn was younger, Luke would drop him off at Leia’ or Han’s for months on end while he went on “business trips.”  As far as the media and pundits were concerned, Luke was the best—the man who was sent in when there seemed to be no hope, and he would get a deal done.  Then, when Finn was fourteen, it all stopped.  Luke returned from a peacemaking mission to the DRC, bought a cabin in the Virginian Appalachian Mountains, and moved Finn out there, hardly ever leaving.  Luke never spoke of it, and Finn eventually stopped asking.

 

“Finn,” Luke drew out.  “I haven’t had an official offer.  I agreed to hear them out--,”

 

“Dad, you’re too old for this.”

 

“Thank you for that vote of confidence, but I assure you I am still capable of sitting at a table and listening.”

 

Finn worked his jaw in frustration.  “Would the talks happen around here or would you be in the field?”

 

“Initial reports show the parties are willing to meet in a neutral area.”

 

Finn’s shoulders sagged in relief.  “That’s good at least.”

 

“I’m glad I have your approval,” Luke chuckled.  “I’m planning on coming out next weekend for about a week.”

 

“Do you want to stay with me?”  Finn pictured the second bedroom in his apartment in his mind; he’d have to move the papers and books out of the way but the futon was comfortable.  “I’ll clean the sheets and everything.”

 

“How can I turn down an offer like that,” Luke joked.  “Thank you.  I think it would have started World War Three if I had to choose between Leia and Han.”

 

“Oh God,” Finn winced in sympathy.  “Definitely avoid that at all costs.  Let me know your schedule.  Do you still have the spare key I gave you?”

 

“I do and I will.  I’ll talk to you soon, Finn.  I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Dad,” Finn answered before the call was discontinued.

 

*****

 

“Hey, Zu-zu,” Finn cooed as he closed the door behind him and the black cat rubbed against his legs with mild affection.  “Did ya miss me or did ya miss food?”  Zuri blinked her bright green eyes up at him, as though to say ‘that was ridiculous question, you know I only keep you around for your food-giving abilities.’  “Yeah yeah, I know,” Finn nodded, kicking off his shoes before heading for the small kitchen, trailed by his cat.  He opened his fridge and pulled out the half-empty can of soft kitty food, placing it on the counter and turning to open the cabinet with the bowls and plates.  When he turned back, Zuri was seated primly next to the covered can, waiting.  “Ya know, someday when I have visitors, they’re gonna think I’m a weirdo for letting you eat up here,” Finn mentioned, snapping the plastic cover off the can and emptying the contents into the small bowl.  He turned away to toss the can in the recycling bin, knowing Zuri wouldn’t start eating if he was watching her.  He still wasn’t sure what possessed him to adopt a cat, but one day he was doing a radio charity event at an animal shelter and he left with Zuri.

 

Finn washed his hands quickly in the sink before moving to the cupboard where he kept most of his food and evaluated his options.  He had Cheerios and Cinnamon Toast Crunch—like that was even a decision.  He grabbed the latter box, jumping up to sit on the counter across from where his cat was eating her dinner and stuffing a handful of the cereal into his mouth.  He was about four mouthfuls in when his cell started to ring and Finn had to shift to pull his phone from his pocket.  He saw the caller ID and smiled.

 

“Hey, Poe.  What’s up?”

 

“Hi, buddy.  How are ya doing,” came Poe’s smooth greeting.

 

“Doing well, thanks.  How have classes been?”

 

Poe groaned.  “It’s like they don’t want to learn this stuff!  It’s not a required course; they should be here because they want to.”

 

Finn hummed.  “Well, it’s that stretch after spring break and before final papers are due.  People coast during that.”

 

“You still have that student mindset, don’t you?”  Poe chuckled while Finn frowned.  Did Poe think he was basically a kid?  Then Finn remembered he was sitting on the counter, eating sugary cereal from the box.  Damn it.  “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t email this week’s topic to you over the weekend.  I realized my place was a disaster and I went into full spring cleaning mode.”

 

“No problem,” Finn assured, evaluating what he could see of his apartment.  He wouldn’t call it a _disaster_ but there was no reason for his clean laundry to still be on his couch.  “I don’t mind winging it so long as it’s not one of the sex-focused shows.”  Poe laughed and Finn’s stomach did a familiar flip.  “Seriously, the things people call in about, man.”

 

“I didn’t realize how much BDSM goes on in the metro area,” Poe commented casually.

 

“I dunno,” Finn shrugged, reaching into the cereal box.  “High-pressure jobs, the need for control or giving up control—I kinda get it.”

 

There was a pause before an incredulous response of, “ _Do you_?”

 

“Not me personally,” Finn said quickly, eyes going wide.  “I just—other people—I, yeah.  Fuck, forget I said anything.”

 

Poe laughed.  “Whatever you say, buddy.  I don’t judge.”

 

Finn groaned.  “Seriously, forget all of that.  I don’t—I’ve _never_ \--,”

 

“Relax, I’m teasing you,” Poe said gently, gently enough that Finn thought he had a chance of his face returning to its normal temperature in the next decade.  “So, I have a few notes but if you don’t mind rolling with it tonight…?”

 

“Don’t mind at all.  Bring it on.”

 

“Great.  Sounds good.  Oh, also, don’t stuff yourself with junk food; I promised I’d take you guys out for food after.”

 

“Uh,” Finn glanced at his hand buried in the crinkling plastic bag.  “What’s your opinion on Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”

 

“Delicious but still junk food,” Poe answered instantly.  “And if that’s all you have, forget dinner—I’m taking you grocery shopping.”

 

“I’m not broke,” Finn whined, eyes closing in embarrassment.  “I’m just—saving room for fries later.”

 

“Uh-huh, _sure_ you are,” Poe said with warmth and doubt.  “Well, I’ll see you at the studio in a bit.  Give your cat a pet for me.”

 

“Will do,” Finn nodded, noticing Zuri had finished and moved over to her preferred windowsill to absorb the last of the spring sunshine.  “See ya in a couple hours.  Be nice to me with the topic.”

 

“I try to be nice to you all the time,” Poe said, sounding slightly offended.  Finn froze slightly, holding the cereal box to his chest.

 

“Except when you’re mocking my food choices,” Finn joked somewhat weakly.  There was a slight pause and then Poe’s warm, low chuckle came through his speaker.

 

“Except then,” Poe agreed lightly.  “Bye, Finn.”

 

“Bye,” Finn echoed back, waiting for the double beep signaling Poe had hung up before putting his cell to the side with a sigh.  Zuri turned her head to the side to look at him.  “Well, that went—well?”  Zuri gave him an extremely unconvinced look before turning her attention away.  “Right.  Awesome.  My own cat doesn’t believe me.”

 

*****

 

“Come on!  Give me a hint,” Finn whined, trying to catch a glimpse of Poe’s notebook.  Poe laughed and shut the yellow leather-bound notebook with a snap.

 

“Nope, not gonna happen.  You’re better when you’re loose and rolling with the punches,” Poe smiled.  Finn scowled and crossed his arms against the flutter in his stomach.

 

“Or I’ll come up dry and sound like an idiot on air.”

 

“That’s never happened,” Poe rolled his eyes.  “And that’s what I told Iolo and Lando when they asked me if I thought you were ready for bigger things.”

 

“Wait—did they ask you first?  To do the _Crew_?”  Honestly, Finn would have thought Poe was the station’s first choice if there was an open spot on the morning show. 

 

“Did they ask _me_ —a thirty-something-year-old college professor—to be the young and hopefully ingénue,” Poe asked flatly.  “Funnily enough, it didn’t come up.”

 

“I’m not a kid—I’m twenty-four,” Finn pointed out, frowning.

 

Poe’s face softened into something Finn tried to convince himself wasn’t fondness.  “That’s cute, Finn, how you can say that and think you mean it.”

 

“One minute warning,” Bastian announced over the speaker before Finn got a chance to reply.  Finn looked over and saw Bastian was smirking, clearing enjoying listening in.

 

“Thanks,” Poe waved, swiveling his seat around to face his mic.  “Remember, we’re getting food after.”

 

Bastian clicked his mic back on to say, “Poe, it’s gonna be the highlight of my week.”

 

“Is he joking,” Poe asked Finn as Finn sat down and folded his feet under him, pulling himself closer to his mic with the edge of the desk.

 

“Depends on who he picks up this weekend,” Finn shrugged.

 

“How do you sit like that,” Poe asked, brow furrowed in confusion as Bastian signaled twenty seconds to air.

 

“Carefully,” Finn replied with a bit of sass.  Poe rolled his eyes and Bastian held up his hands for the final countdown.

 

_From the nation’s capital, DC105 presents Capitally Curious; DC’s one and only love and relationship talk show.  And here’s your host, Poe Dameron!_

 

“Welcome, everyone,” Poe started cheerfully.  “Congratulations—you’ve survived a blistering cold spring day with at least your ears intact.”  That line wasn’t as good as last week’s but Finn chuckled good-naturedly anyway.  “However it was not as cold as the bed my amazing co-host has to look forward to at home--,”

 

“Ouch,” Finn laughed.  “What happened to the compliments, man?”

 

“I said you were amazing,” Poe pointed out with a smirk.

 

“And then hit me with some hard truths!”

 

“That’s what I’m here for, Finn,” Poe laughed.  “And I’m also hear to take your calls about any and all love, relationship, or break-up questions you have, or better yet, stories.  Tonight’s topic is one near and dear to my heart—have any guesses, Finn?”

 

“Brutal honesty as a foundation to a workplace relationship?”

 

“No, but I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Poe said slightly too seriously and Finn arched an eyebrow at that.  “Making the first move, Finn, is the topic for tonight.  What are your thoughts?”

 

“Well,” Finn drew out, buying some time as he scrambled for a reply.  Usually Poe would take over the opening segment if he hadn’t given Finn the topic earlier.  This was different.  “I’m not a fan of pick-up lines.”

 

“That’s a shame,” Poe smiled.  “They’re really an art form.”

 

“They’re cheesy and awkward.  Or if the line is really smooth, I start wondering how many other people this person has used it on that night,” Finn replied flatly.

 

“If you’re making the first move, what’s your technique?”

 

Poe seemed genuinely curious and Finn had to look away from him to focus again.  “Well, I usually introduce myself--,”

 

“And that’s all it takes, huh,” Poe asked with a teasing lilt.

 

“I mean, if they’re interested, they’ll introduce themselves back and then we start talking,” Finn shrugged.  “It’s not rocket science.”

 

“On the contrary, I think it takes a high level of confidence and self-awareness to be able to pull a move like that off,” Poe smiled.  “Which leaves the listeners and I wondering why you’re still single.”

 

“Probably because I haven’t pulled that move on anyone since I was fourteen,” Finn joked and Poe groaned in response.

 

“Well, baby Casanova and I have to take a quick commercial break,” Poe stated, adjusting his microphone.  “On the other side, we’ll be taking your calls and attempting to solve Finn’s dating slump.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“You know I’m right.  This is Poe Dameron on _Capitally Curious_ on DC105.”  

 

*****

 

“I told you you’re better when you’re loose,” Poe smirked, hands in pocket, as he and Finn waited by the counter for their order.  Rey and Bastian had snagged a table, leaving Finn to stand with Poe unless he was a jerk and left the food provider alone.

 

“That sucked.  Half the show was people calling in to try pick-up lines on me,” Finn muttered around the straw in his strawberry milkshake in his mouth.

 

“That was the best,” Poe grinned, shifting to face Finn straight on.  Finn detached his lips from the straw and offered the beverage to Poe silently; Poe’s chocolate shake was still being prepared and Finn felt bad.  Poe bent at the waist to take the straw in his mouth and took a quick sip, glancing up at Finn in thanks before pulling back.  “The one about the cops was hilarious—how’d it go again?”

 

It went ‘ _did the cops arrest you earlier?  Because it should be illegal to look that good_ ’ but Finn would be damned if he would repeat it.  “Don’t remember,” he grunted.

 

“I think you do,” Poe prodded with a smile.

 

“Nope, no clue,” Finn said definitely.

 

“Number 23,” was called from behind the counter and Poe held up his receipt between two fingers to show the slip with a bold ‘23’ printed on it.  Two trays were slid towards them, one filled with trays of fries and the other with four burgers and a chocolate milkshake.  Poe grabbed the burgers and Finn took the fries and together they headed over to join Rey and Bastian.

 

“What did we miss,” Poe asked merrily, sliding into the seat next to Rey, leaving Finn to sit next to Bastian, who offered a grin.

 

“Our monthly hang-out is gonna be next weekend,” Bastian announced.

 

“That time again, huh,” Finn asked mildly, grabbing the cheeseburger Poe held out to him with one hand and a tray of fried with his other.  Their month hang-out was when Lando let the senior interns run the station while the regulars (Iolo, Snap, Karé, Jess, Bastian, Rey, Poe, and Finn) went out for a night of drinking, dancing, and general mayhem.

 

“Yep, I’ve already texted Snap and he has some places we have to hit,” Bastian said.

 

While the other three discussed the pros and cons of one bar over one club, Finn started munching on his burger and stayed quiet.  It was common knowledge Finn didn’t talk much after a show; he was basically all talked out by the end of the night.  Anyway, he had nothing productive to add to the conversation.  It wasn’t that he hated their hang-out; it’s just that ever since Finn had started being invited along he had taken to thinking of the evening as an opportunity to observe Poe and various mating rituals, and that was a certain level of self-inflicted torture he didn’t need in his life.

 

Finn wasn’t actually an idiot.  He knew as soon as he met Poe that he was attracted to him on a physical level, and then after a few shows Finn knew he was in deep.  But at the time Poe was in the ‘recently single’ column and Finn had no desire to be a rebound.  In college, Finn found himself stuck in a rut of being _the_ rebound guy.  It wasn’t until Meredith Linton—after what he thought was a pretty enjoyable hour of heavy making out—had sat by his open window, smoking a cigarette, and crying about her jerk of an ex, and this was the third time this had happened to Finn that semester (all separate people), and his roommate started saying that the only people attracted to Finn were the recently dumped that Finn decided enough was enough.  He was a pretty confident guy, but at a certain point Finn couldn’t handle the high chances that his partner would burst into tears and whine about that ex they thought would be _the one_ every time they kissed.  Only comfortably single people for Finn from then on.

 

But then was the next question: when did ‘recently single’ change into ‘fully single’?  And that was what Finn tried to determine from the monthly hang-outs.  As soon as Poe showed any sign of interest in any of the five to ten people who approached Poe every time they went out, Finn would know that Poe was open to the idea of—something.  But it had been thirteen months and nothing.  Not so much as a wink in response to a line or agreeing to an offered drink or accepting a dance proposal.  So Finn figured Poe wasn’t ready—maybe his last relationship had been really serious—and Finn wasn’t one to pressure someone.  But maybe this hang-out will be different.

 

“Hey.”  Finn glanced up at the soft-spoken word and the gentle hand on his own, reaching for another fry.  Poe was watching him from across the table while Rey and Bastian argued over—something.  “You okay?”

 

Finn swallowed.  “Yeah.  Just tired.  Long day, ya know?”

 

Poe smiled and nodded.  “Yeah, I hear you.  Are you okay to drive?  I don’t mind dropping you off.”

 

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay,” Finn replied, cracking a smile.  “Besides, I need my car to get to the gym and grocery store tomorrow.”

 

“Buy some stuff more nutritious than Cinnamon Toast Crunch, please,” Poe implored sincerely.

 

“I make no promises,” Finn said seriously.

 

“What are you two whispering about,” Rey asked with a pointed look towards Finn.

 

“Secrets and plots,” Poe answered easily, releasing Finn’s hand with a gentle squeeze.  Finn flexed his hand, trying to fight the phantom touch that lingered after Poe turned to Rey.

 

“You two are adorable,” Bastian whispered, lips close to Finn’s ear.

 

“Please shut up,” Finn breathed, slumping back into his seat.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for the amazing response to this story! I feel so thankful!!  
> Thank you for all the amazing comments and kudos on the first chapter. I was honestly floored :D  
> Hope you enjoyed the next installment!


	3. Hurry Up and Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm ashamed at the delay. But we're back!

“Hey, hello?  Finn?  Anyone home?”

 

Fingers snapped in front of Finn’s face and he half-heartedly swiped at them before returning both hands to cradle the cup of coffee in front of him on the table.  Bastian’s face appeared in front of Finn and Finn grimaced.  “It’s too early for you,” he grunted.

 

“It’s after ten,” Bastian said, raising an eyebrow and dropping into the seat across from Finn.

 

“Been up since five,” Finn grumbled, bowing his head to inhale a whiff of caffeine and bitterness.

 

“Then you should be awake,” Bastian retorted pitilessly.  Finn pouted over to him and Bastian rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.  I guess the morning show isn’t your thing?”

 

Actually the _Crew_ was great: he meshed well with Iolo, Jess, and Karé, the feedback had been all positive from the first two shows, and Lando had pulled Finn aside after the sports show the day before and mentioned extending the try-out another week.  But two shows a day was exhausting, and he couldn’t figure out a schedule where he could get everything done, and he hadn’t gotten on a new sleep schedule yet.  And now it was Wednesday again, and that meant three shows with no time to prepare because obviously Poe hadn’t sent him the topic over the weekend so Finn was going to be tired and clueless.

 

“Still working out the kinks,” Finn shrugged.  “Why are you here?”

 

“Ouch,” Bastian snorted.  “Forgot I worked here?”  Finn sent him a dark look and Bastian shrugged.  “We’re pre-recording an interview for the noon news, and I got called in to help.”

 

“Anyone cool,” Finn asked, taking a short sip of coffee.

 

“No one I know.  Some guy who worked with Skywalker back in the day,” Bastian mumbled, spinning his phone on the tabletop.  “I swear all anyone can talk about are these damn rumors about Skywalker _maybe_ coming back.  I don’t get what the big deal is.”

 

Finn hummed, taking a longer gulp of his drink.  “Dunno, man.”

 

“But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”  Bastian paused, taking a deep breath as Finn watched, frowning.  “There’s this guy--,”

 

“Nope,” Finn shook his head, going in for another gulp of caffeine.

 

“You could at least let me finish,” Bastian grumbled.  Finn shrugged but stayed silent and Bastian grinned.  “Okay, so his name is Paul--,”

 

“I don’t date apostles,” Finn interrupted.

 

“His name is Paul,” Bastian continued a little louder, “and I know him from school.  We took an anthropology class together--,”

 

“Why were you in an anthropology class,” Finn asked, a bit more interested. 

 

“Needed to fill a social science core,” Bastian answered smoothly.  “It was pretty cool actually.  Development of sports in human society or something.”  Finn hummed thoughtfully and Bastian rolled his eyes.  “Not important; I’ll circle back if ya actually care.  Anyway, I ran into him at this bar up in NoMa on Saturday and we got to talking--,”

 

“As you do.”

 

“Obviously.  Some of us are friendly,” Bastian said, sticking his tongue out at his friend.  “So I mentioned I worked here and he asked if I knew you and I had to think about that--,”

 

“What does he want,” Finn asked flatly.

 

“To take you for a drink, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

 

“I told you, I’m tired,” Finn said by way of apology.  “I dunno.  I’m not really in the mood to date.”

 

Bastian heaved a long, heavy, dramatic sigh that had Finn crossing his arms and scowling.  “Finn, babe.  I get that Poe’s, like, your object of desire--,”

 

“Ew,” Finn wrinkled his nose.  “Just call him Beatrice, why don’t you, and really drive home the humiliation.”

 

“Who the hell is Beatrice,” Bastian asked, surprised.  “Don’t tell me you’re carrying the torch for _two_ people.”

 

“No, you uncultured heathen,” Finn chuckled.  “Beatrice was the woman Dante was crazy about but never made a move on.”  Bastian shook his head in incomprehension.  “Dante?  Dante’s Inferno?  Nine circles of hell?  None of this sounds familiar?”

 

“Did they make a video game out of it?”

 

Finn sucked in his lips, trying to block out the sound of his aunt’s voice shouting ‘what has become of the world’ in his mind.  “Yeah, they did.”

 

“Now that you say it, that sounds kinda familiar.  I might’ve read it in high school.”

 

“Probably, that’s how I know it,” Finn replied, standing up.  “Anyway I gotta--,”

 

“No, hold on,” Bastian said, scrambling to his feet and blocking Finn’s route out of the break room.  “One drink.  I’m not arranging a marriage here, okay?  Maybe you’ll hit it off and it’s all cool.  And if you don’t, you got a free drink and you can go back to mooning over Poe, agonizing over when the perfect moment is gonna--,”

 

“I’m just not that interested in dating,” Finn mumbled, shoulders slumping.  Truth was, short of Poe walking in and asking him on a weekend trip out of town Finn was too exhausted for anything remotely outside his routine.

 

“He’s a junior reporter at the Post,” Bastian prodded.  “Good job, easy on the eyes.  Huge Caps fan.  Come on, at least you’ll have stuff to talk about, unlike the last date you went on with that interior designer.”

 

Finn tilted his head in agreement; that date had been pretty much a disaster from start to finish.  There was only so long Finn could fake interest in Rebecca’s last trip to PB (which stood for Palm Beach, but it took Finn nearly forty-five minutes to figure that out).  The only redeeming part of it had been the cool henna tattoo Finn got on his bicep; Poe had stared at it for nearly the entire next show.  “Right.  Is he actually a Caps fan or a bandwagon fan?”

 

“Grew up in Rockville.  Took the red line to the games,” Bastian answered promptly with a wide grin.  “So?”

 

Finn bit his lip.  “What the hell.  But just one drink.”

 

“Great!  How does tomorrow night sound?”

 

“ _Tomorrow_?  Forget it, I need at least a week’s notice!”

 

“Babe, if I gave a week’s notice you’d find some way to talk yourself out of it.”  Bastian clapped Finn on the shoulder encouragingly but Finn just glared.  “Tomorrow, 7:30.  I’ll text you the details later, okay?”

 

Finn sighed.  “Fine.  Whatever.”

 

“Awesome.  Love the enthusiasm,” Bastian teased.  “See ya tonight.  Is Poe feeding us again?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Finn said slowly.  “I’m pretty sure that was a one-time thing.”

 

“Damn.  I liked that,” Bastian muttered mostly to himself.

 

“You liked someone else paying,” Finn laughed, dodging around Bastian and heading for the door.

 

“Duh,” Bastian called after him.

 

*****

 

“Kid.”

 

“Han,” Finn replied, too tired to even jump at the surprising sight of his uncle sitting on the couch in his apartment with Zuri perched on his shoulder.  “I don’t remember giving you a key,” he mentioned as he toed out of his black sneakers and headed over to the kitchen.

 

“Don’t remember needing one,” Han joked gruffly, hissing slightly as Zuri dug her claws into his flesh before leaping over the back of the couch and running over to where Finn was putting her food out.

 

“Two Han Visits in a week,” Finn said as Han moved to lean against the countertop bar the separated the kitchen from the living room.  “Either you’re in trouble or I am.”

 

“Hear your dad is coming around.”

 

“Where’d you hear that?  The Post?  CNN?  Politico?  Every local news station?”  Finn rolled his eyes and turned his back to Han so he could wash his hands quickly while Zuri ate.  “How did they even find out?”

 

“I stopped asking,” Han said with a degree of resolution that comes from too-much experience and Finn grimaced in sympathy.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Not your problem,” Han shrugged, watching as Finn jumped up to sit on the lowered counter in front of Han.  “So, you ready?”

 

“It’s not like he’s Beyoncé,” Finn grumbled, scratching Zuri behind one of her pointed, fuzzy ears before she twitched away.

 

“There’s an image,” Han snorted.  “But you know the drill.”

 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Finn rolled his eyes.  “Don’t engage reporters, keep a low profile, don’t do anything stupid.”  

 

“Where anyone can see ya,” Han added with a crooked smile.  Finn returned in with a tried smile of his own.

 

“Right.”  There was a comfortable pause before Finn added, “It’s not like anyone really knows anyway.  With the fake name and all.”

 

“Better safe than sorry,” Han responded reasonably, which made Finn frown.

 

“I thought you were with me—that the pseudonym is dumb.”

 

“It was dumb when Luke was doing his hermit thing,” Han said, opting to stare out Finn’s window rather than meet his nephew’s slight glare.  “If he’s coming back for good--,”

 

“If he’s coming back for good, forget it.  I’ll make a full public statement; Lando will help,” Finn added, to make his threat more realistic.

 

Han heaved something between a sigh and an exasperated groan.  “Luke wants you to have your own life, kid.”

 

“Yeah,” Finn said lowly, angry now, “and part of that is that I’m his son.  I’m not ashamed of him, Han.”

 

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s not an easy name to live up to.”

 

“I’m not Ben,” Finn ground out, not flinching when Han’s expression went stony.  They stayed like that for a moment until Zuri meowed loudly to announce her dinner was done and she would be leaving their company now, leaping off the counter and heading towards Finn’s bedroom.

 

“I’ve gotta get going,” Han announced, pushing himself away from the counter.

 

“Wait, hold on,” Finn said, swinging his legs around and scooting over to sit closer to Han.  “I’m sorry.  That was low.  I’m just—tired, ya know?”

 

“Yeah, I can’t listen to the radio without hearing your annoying voice,” Han grunted, but Finn smiled widely at the words.  That was the closest Han would get to saying his apology was accepted.  “Take it easy, kid.”

 

“You too.  You should come by on Sunday.  Dad’s gonna make dinner.”

 

“Where’s he going to find three-day old dead opossum around here,” Han asked with a smirk.

 

“Shut up,” Finn laughed.  “He cooks real food!”

 

“Sure,” Han said, heading for the door.  “See ya Sunday.  I take my raccoon medium.”

 

“Get out.”

 

*****

 

“Buddy, you okay?  You look dead on your feet.”

 

“Thanks, Poe.  You look very zombie-esque yourself,” Finn replied, aiming for humor and falling short.

 

“Seriously, are you up for tonight,” Poe asked, standing and pushing his notebook to the side.  “I can handle a show on my own.”

 

“No, you can’t.  I’m the brains of this operation,” Finn joked, dropping his bag on the ground and starting to pull his jacket off.  “Anyway, I’m already here.”

 

Poe looked skeptical but he didn’t get a chance to reply before Bastian pushed his way into the booth.  “Hey, guys.  I wanted to let you know the switchboard is acting up tonight.  I’ll try not to leave you hanging, but be ready to fill dead air just in case.”

 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Poe smiled.

 

“No problem.  Oh, Finn,” Bastian said, turning his back slightly to Poe, “my phone decided to die for no reason today--,”

 

“You dropped it in coffee again, didn’t you,” Finn asked flatly.

 

“I was told it was waterproof,” Bastian answered quickly.  “Anyway, I wrote down the details for tomorrow.”  Finn sighed and took the bright pink sticky note Bastian held out to him.  He’d almost forgotten he had agreed to do drinks tomorrow.  “And Paul’s number’s at the bottom, if you need it.  Alright, five minutes to air, boys,” he finished brightly, already pushing open the heavy door separating the sound booth from the recording booth.

 

“Who’s Paul,” Poe asked, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow.  Finn shrugged, shoving the note into his pocket without reading it.

 

“Some friend of Bastian’s from school.  We’re going to have drinks tomorrow,” Finn said, draping his jacket over the back of his chair.

 

“The three of you,” Poe stated, watching as Finn folded himself into his seat.

 

“No, just me and this guy,” Finn responded, staring back at the tight expression Poe was giving him.  “Why?”

 

“Like a date,” Poe asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“Like one of those things you always rag on me about not going on,” Finn nodded, crossing his arms in response.

 

“Do you even know him,” Poe shot, sounding slightly disgusted, like Finn had said he was planning on eating a seaweed and mushroom sandwich.

 

“No, it’s one of those new-fangled blind date things,” Finn answered, rolling his eyes.  This was all the day needed: early morning, three shows, Bastian being annoying, arguing with Han, and now Poe acting weird. 

 

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Poe spat out incredulously, arms dropping to his sides.  “How old is he?  Does he have a job?  Does he have a criminal record?”

 

“Oh my God, what’s the matter with you,” Finn groaned.  “If anything I thought you’d be happy.”

 

“ _Happy_?  That you might be killed and dumped in the Potomac tomorrow night?”

 

“What kind of blind dates do you go on,” Finn asked, perturbed.

 

“Do you have someone to call,” Poe snapped.

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“Do you have someone to call,” Poe repeated slowly, “when you get there and when you get home?”

 

Finn laughed but it trailed off when confronted with Poe’s dead serious face.  “No, because I’m not sixteen, going to my first unchaperoned pool party.”

 

“This is basic safety, Finn.”

 

“It’s ridiculous and you’re insane, Poe.”

 

“Two minutes to air,” came Bastian’s voice over the speaker but the two hosts ignored him.

 

“This guy could be _anyone_ ,” Poe continued.

 

“His name is Paul,” Finn broke off to pull the note from his pocket, “O’Connor,” he finished, reading the note.  “Bastian met him in an anthropology class at American U.  He’s some junior reporter at the Post.  I don’t know about a criminal record, but I’ll risk it.  Satisfied?”

 

“No, because you still haven’t told me who you’ll call.”

 

“One minute to air,” Bastian announced, sounding frantic.

 

“You, damn it!  If it’ll shut you up, I’ll call you,” Finn threw his hands up.

 

“Was that so hard,” Poe growled, sitting down hard and tugging himself over to his microphone with more force than necessary.  Finn scowled.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Thirty seconds, for the love of God,” Bastian whined.

 

“Like pulling teeth with you,” Poe grumbled.

 

“Like talking to my dad—oh wait, even he knows I’m an adult,” Finn snapped, with a sarcastic grin.  Poe scoffed and shook his head, both turning away from each other as Bastian did the final countdown.

 

_From the nation’s capital, DC105 presents Capitally Curious; DC’s one and only love and relationship talk show.  And here’s your host, Poe Dameron!_

 

“ _Good_ evening, everyone,” Poe declared with a staggering amount of forced cheerfulness.  “Thank you for joining us for this spectacular show where we will be dealing with a topic near and dear to my _marvelous_ co-host’s heart.”

 

“You’re kidding me,” Finn deadpanned, almost forgetting they were live on air.

 

“Blind dates,” Poe continued, grinning over to Finn but his eyes were hard.  “We’ll be discussing pros and cons, whether blind dates are even still possible now with social media, and—as always—taking your calls.  Please give us a ring if you have any tales of blind date adventures.  But first, Finn has a public safety announcement about blind date safety.  Right, Finn?”

 

Two could play that game.  “Of course, Poe,” Finn answered with a wolfish smile.  “You can never be too cautious.”

 

“Very true,” Poe replied, eyes narrowing.

 

“So, remember to meet in a public space.  Alert a waiter, bartender, or employee if you feel unsafe.  And, most importantly, be sure to have a _good friend_ on speed dial and let them know when you arrive and when you leave.  Anything to add, Poe?”

 

“No, I think you hit all the marks,” Poe said cheerfully while Finn just glared.  “We have to go to a quick commercial break.  On the other side we’ll be taking your calls.  I’m Poe Dameron, and this is _Capitally Curious_.”

 

“You’re fucking with me,” Finn glared as soon as the on-air light flicked off.  “That’s not the topic.”

 

Poe just flipped his notebook open, turning a few pages before pushing it across the table to Finn.  Finn snatched it and scanned the page.  ‘ _Blind dates…safety…internet…disasters…_   “Satisfied,” Poe shot back.

 

Finn slid the notebook back.  “Whatever.”

 

** _Next Day_ **

 

Finn sighed, casually stirring the straw around the edge of his glass of Coke.  He was early; he was early.  He could hear his aunt’s voice in his head, _‘Be polite, be punctual.’_   Finn slipped his cell on the bar counter next to his drink and, after unlocking it, selected the BBC app and started to read over the headlines, skipping the public interest feature on Luke Skywalker’s five greatest successes in favor of a travel piece about the trans-Siberian railroad.

 

“Finn?”

 

Finn looked up and turned in his stool to observe the tall, pale guy next to him.  Brown hair with an undercut, slight stubble around his jaw line, light eyes, and a small smile.  Could be worse, Finn decided, returning the guy’s smile.

 

“That’s me.  Paul, right?”

 

“Yeah.  Sorry if I kept you waiting,” Paul said, taking the empty stool to Finn’s left.  “I got sent to cover a library opening over in Annandale and the traffic…”

 

“No problem.  I haven’t been here long,” Finn shrugged.  Fifteen minutes was fine; he would have started worrying after twenty, left after thirty.  “So you know Bastian.”

 

Paul laughed.  “He’s crazy.  Met him in some elective class and then we used to meet at random house parties, ya know?”

 

“Sure,” Finn agreed, waiting for Paul to order a gin and tonic.  “Bastian’s the type you meet at random house parties.”

 

“For sure,” Paul nodded.  “You went to UVA, right?”

 

“Go Cavaliers,” Finn responded.

 

“And you graduated a year after Bastian.”  Finn blinked, tilting his head.  Paul smoothly added, “Bastian was telling me you were a bit younger.”

 

“Okay,” Finn said, something feeling a little off.  “I graduated three years ago.”

 

“I knew someone who went to UVA.  Ever ran into George Booker?”

 

“Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.  It’s kind of a big school,” Finn explained, picking up his glass and taking a slow sip.

 

“Yeah, he was in engineering.  Probably didn’t run in your circle.  You were in the liberal arts school, I guess?”

 

Yeah, something was weird.  “Yeah, I double majored.  Communications and creative writing,” Finn said slowly.  “You probably did the same.”

 

“Pretty much,” Paul smiled.  “Funny thing is, there was no Finn Walker who graduated from UVA three years ago.”

 

“You do background checks on everyone you meet for drinks,” Finn asked, eyes narrowing.  “Should I go get my diploma?”

 

“No,” Paul said, smile turning sharp.  “There was no Finn Walker, but there was a Finn Skywalker.”

 

“What are you getting at?”

 

“I was just wondering why you changed your name.  Was it too much pressure to live up to your father’s legacy?  Or did you want to see if you could make it on your own?”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Finn said loudly, standing up.  “Hope you have a good night.”

 

“Really?  Nothing?  Not even off the record,” Paul asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Finn pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet and slapped it down on the bar.  “Off the record?”  Finn slid his phone and wallet back into his pockets before leaning in as if to kiss Paul on the cheek.  “Fuck off,” he whispered in Paul’s ear before turning away.

 

Finn heard Paul’s laugh as he threaded his way between the tables, starting to fill up with the dinner rush.  He nodded to the hostess who had directed him to the bar on his way in, and held the door open for a couple who were apparently regulars.  Finn stepped outside, regretting his outfit choice because it had gotten chilly since he had been at the bar.  He checked over his shoulder as he headed over to his car, but he didn’t see Paul anywhere.  At least the guy wasn’t planning on trying to tail him.  When he was six, after Leia announced her intentions to run for the Senate, reporters had followed his and Ben’s school bus.  The two of them had gotten off a stop early, despite the bus driver’s best efforts, and had ran through backyards until they got to Han’s place.  And, despite the fact that that had been traumatizing, it was one of the good memories he had of his cousin. 

 

Finn unlocked his car, starting the ignition before buckling his seatbelt and reversing out of the parking spot, trying to push away the memories that were rushing to the surface.

 

_“Be quiet,” Ben hissed, arm around Finn’s shoulders, glancing around the corner of the shed where they were hiding.  “I think there’s still one.”_

_“What do we do,” Finn whispered, shaking against his older cousin’s side._

_“We run for it,” Ben said, nodding as though to convince both of them._

_“Why do they wanna know where we live,” Finn asked, adjusting his Power Rangers backpack._

_“They wanna see Mom,” Ben replied, looking again.  “Definitely one left.”_

_“But we’re not even going to Auntie’s,” Finn whined, falling silent at the sharp look from Ben._

_“They don’t know that,” he said, jerking his head towards the fence they had jumped to get away.  “Okay.  Hold my hand and keep up.  If we can make it to Ms. Flo’s we can hide there and call Dad.  Ready?”_

_“Ready.”_

 

Finn rubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling more exhausted by the second.  At this time of day, it would be about an hour’s drive to his apartment, if I-95 wasn’t messed up.  He steered his car out of the parking lot, promptly stopping at a red light.  Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Finn debated his options.  He could find somewhere to eat around here, wait out the end of the rush hour.  Or he could suck it up and head home.  He didn’t really know the area that well, and eating in public alone was not what he needed right now.  Or…or.

 

Finn checked the pedestrian crosswalk timer before pulling his phone out of his pocket, plugging it into the Bluetooth connector, and pressing ‘call’ on the last-used contact before he could talk himself out of it.

 

“Well, that must be a new record,” Poe’s voice filled the car.  “Fastest first date ever.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Finn croaked before breaking off to swallow.  “You wanted me to call.”

 

“Yeah, buddy,” Poe said, voice dropping.  “Is everything okay?”

 

“I’m kinda stranded in Fairfax,” Finn said, pressing the accelerator when the light changed.  “And I remember you live out this way.  Wanna grab something to eat—if you’re not busy.  Sorry, I didn’t…think this through but--,”

 

“Are you—hey, relax, Finn.  Of course I’m not busy.  No classes on Fridays,” Poe cut in gently.  “Why don’t you come by?  Sounds like you need a break.”

 

“God, you have no idea.”

 

“Okay.  I’ll text you the address.  Just come straight here.”

 

“Thanks, Poe.”

 

“Don’t mention it, buddy.  I’ll see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda disappeared there for a minute :/ I'm so sorry to any readers left hanging. It wasn't intentional. Turns out my little illness was kinda bigger than I thought. I'm still not 100% but I'm well enough to write. Actually, I have pages and pages of this story handwritten at this point, it was just a matter of typing it up.  
> ANYWAY! Thank you for the amazing support for this story. You are all spectacular and I cherish every comment and kudo, I swear! Hope you enjoy!


	4. A Night In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's about time for some quality Finn-Poe hang-out, yeah? :)

“Okay, you can take a seat anywhere, anywhere you like.  I put the kettle on—for tea, you know, and--,”

 

“Yeah, Poe, I know what a kettle is for,” Finn said from where he was standing awkwardly in the open space of Poe’s house.  The living room and kitchen were merged together, and given the improvised wooden 4-by-4s holding up the ceiling, it wasn’t supposed to be.  It looked like Poe decided he didn’t want a wall where a wall was needed and just knocked it down.  And if that wasn’t the most Poe-like thing then Finn didn’t know what was.

 

“Right, of course.  You can make yourself at home,” Poe hinted as he stood in front of a drawer and pulled out a neat stack of papers, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.  Hesitantly Finn glanced at his options before heading towards the slightly cluttered kitchen table, which was set up for Poe to grade papers.  Poe stood, watching as Finn slid into an orange-painted chair before walking over.  “I was thinking take-out.  That okay with you?”

 

“Yeah,” Finn nodded, looking down at the take-out menus Poe placed in front of him.  “Uh, that’s quite the collection you got.”

 

“Pick whatever,” Poe instructed in a too-soft voice.  Finn slowly turned his face up, squinting at the blatant worried expression looking down at him.

 

“Okay, you can drop the bedside manner whenever, man,” Finn said.

 

Poe blinked and then cleared his voice, looking away.  “Yeah, okay.  I-uh-I’ve got to make a call real quick.  So, yeah.  I’ll be right back.  If the kettles goes, just take it off the heat and--,”

 

“Again, I know how a kettle works,” Finn sassed.  Poe cracked a smile at that, squeezing Finn’s shoulder before turning off and heading towards another room—maybe his bedroom, Finn considered.  He looked around again as Poe closed the door with a click.  It was—well, it was something between cozy and funny-looking in the little house.  Nothing matched, which might be normal; not everyone had micromanaging fathers and aunts who make sure the curtains match the towels.  The couch and armchairs looked comfortable, tan and worn, and the fireplace looked like Poe actually used it.  Dad would approve, Finn thought idly before heaving a sigh.

 

He had called his aunt from the car on his way here.  He knew he should have called his dad too, but Finn suspected Luke would have lost it, but Leia had taken it in stride.  She said she would have her media team keep an ear out for when the inevitable exposé would come out.  Obviously at this point there wasn’t much to do except wait; the ball was in Paul’s court.  If Finn hadn’t—well, too late now.  There was one more call he _should_ make, but Finn would prefer to push that off. 

 

Finn clicked his tongue against his front teeth, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and scrolled through his contacts, trying to remember what he had saved the number under.

 

_That Guy_

 

There it is.  Finn pressed dial, bringing the phone to his ear while covering his eyes with his other hand, already dreading it.

 

It was four rings before the call was picked up.

 

“Is Finn dead?”

 

“No,” Finn replied tightly.

 

“Do you need blood?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Then fuck off.”  And Ben hung up.  Finn shook his head, putting the phone down on the table in front of him.

 

“One Mississippi,” Finn muttered.  “Two Mississippi.  Three Mississippi.”  His phone lit up and started vibrating and Finn smirked.  “This is Finn,” he said when he clicked ‘Accept.’

 

“I fucking _know_ ,” Ben snapped, anger and irritation almost hot through Finn’s phone.  “What do you want?”

 

“Dad’s coming out of the woods,” Finn started, only to be interrupted by a soul-wrenching groan from the other.

 

“Get to the point.  Don’t call me to tell me shit I already know.”

 

“A reporter found me.  I didn’t catch on.  Told him to fuck off,” Finn finished, embarrassed.  If he wasn’t so _tired_ , he would have never said that.  He knows better than anyone that irritating reporters never works.

 

“I’m almost proud,” Ben drawled and Finn rolled his eyes.  “So what, you want me to burn his hard drive?  Hack his cloud?  What am I working with here?”

 

“Oh my God,” Finn moaned.  “No, please.  I just—thought you should know they’re poking around again.”

 

“They never stopped,” Ben replied flatly.  “I’ll be fine.  The fucking CIA can’t find me, you think some reporter can?”

 

“Whatever,” Finn mumbled.  He waited for the click of the call being disconnected, but it didn’t come.

 

“What’s his name?”

 

“Paul O’Connor,” Finn said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Please don’t interfere with his first amendment rights.”

 

Ben scoffed.  “I’ll keep an eye out.  Think you can keep yourself from doing anything else moronic until I take care of this?”

 

“That’s rich coming from you,” Finn snapped.  There was the click of Ben hanging up and then the piercing whistle of the kettle went off.  Poe still hadn’t emerged from behind the door so Finn stood and went over to the stove, switching the burner off and then wrapping a towel around his hand and moving the kettle over.  He was beginning his search for mugs when he heard a door open just as his phone buzzed with a text.

 

“I’ll get the cups,” Poe said behind him.  “What’s your poison?”

 

“What do ya have,” Finn asked back, glancing down his cell’s screen.

 

_Bastian:_

_What the hell is going on???_

 

Finn frowned at that.  Had Paul texted Bastian?  That didn’t make any sense.

 

“—and peppermint,” Poe finished with a flourish, throwing open a cabinet stocked with colorful tins.  Finn shoved the phone back into his pocket, tilting his head at the choices.

 

“I’ll do the yellow one,” Finn said, jerking his chin at said tin box.

 

“Don’t you want to know what it is,” Poe asked, smiling.

 

“Yellow stuff tends to taste good,” Finn shrugged.  Poe cocked his head, reaching up to grab the yellow tin.

 

“If you apply that logic to snow, you’re in for a rude awakening,” Poe stated, tossing the tin at Finn, who caught it easily with a laugh.

 

“What would I do without you,” Finn joked, reading the label while Poe had a coughing fit.  “Lemon ginger…sounds good—are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Poe said, face slightly flushed—probably from coughing, Finn decided.

 

“Tea will probably help with that,” Finn offered with a shrug.  Poe looked at him as if he was trying to figure out if Finn was being serious.  “My dad always made me tea when I had a cough.  With honey, I think.”

 

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe mumbled, voice a little strained before he cleared his throat and turned away, opening the pantry and then pulling out a drawer of mugs of various sizes and colors.  Poe grabbed a bright yellow one and held it out for Finn.  Smiling, Finn took it and tried not to think about how domestic this whole set-up was: the two of them in the kitchen, puttering around to make tea.  Finn tore open the little wrapper with his teeth (and Poe was coughing again, must have allergies) and dropped the packet into his mug and then poured the still-steaming water in.  Finn blew across the surface to cool it, inhaling the twang of ginger that wafted back at him.  He glanced up when he noticed Poe was standing weirdly still, a blue and white mug in his hands.  “Are you doing that on purpose,” Poe asked, brow furrowed.

 

“Doing what?”

 

Poe cast his eyes towards the ceiling and sighed.  “Just—go sit on the couch,” he said, waving for Finn to move.

 

Finn hummed curiously but went with it, making his way into the living room, wondering if it would be weird if he took off his shoes to feel the fluffy white area rug.  Deciding it probably was, Finn sank down into the squishy couch, next to an end table and the armchair that was clearly Poe’s Seat, given the basket of blankets, books, and TV remotes next to it.  Then Poe came around to sit and Finn’s suspicions were confirmed.

 

“So what did you decide,” Poe asked.

 

“I’m never letting Bastian set me up again,” Finn answered promptly.

 

“Good,” Poe replied just as quickly.  “I meant food but—if you want to talk about it…?”

 

“Oh.”  Finn turned slightly, judging if he wanted to get up and grab the menus.  “Whatever.  Chinese?”

 

“I’ve got that one on speed dial,” Poe smiled, putting his mug on the end table, without a coaster.  Finn looked around but didn’t see any, and the table was wood.  While Poe fiddled with his phone, Finn discreetly slid a magazine from the pile by the small lamp over and moved Poe’s cup onto it.  If Poe noticed he didn’t say anything.  “What do you want?”

 

“Lemon chicken and fried wontons if they have any.”

 

Poe shrugged.  “Boring, but okay.”  Finn opened his mouth to retort but Poe brought his phone to his ear and held a finger to his lips with a wink.  Finn rolled his eyes and waited as Poe exchanged pleasantries with someone before placing an order for delivery.  He hung up and then said, “It’ll be about twenty minutes.”

 

“Alright,” Finn nodded, looking around for something to say.  “You have a nice home.”

 

“Thanks.  I’ve been working on fixing it up,” Poe mentioned, gesturing towards the wooden beams.  “There was a wall there, but I didn’t like it.”

 

“How far did you get before you realized it was load-bearing,” Finn asked.

 

“What, are you a carpenter in your spare time?”

 

“My uncle does some carpentry,” Finn replied.  That was the simplest of Han’s jobs to explain.  “You didn’t answer the question.”

 

Poe crossed his arms, looking exactly like a sulking kid.  “Let’s just say those beams were a rushed purchase.”

 

“Got it,” Finn chuckled, blowing over his tea again.  “Uh, thanks.  For letting me stop by.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

“Right.”

 

“No, seriously,” Poe said, leaning towards Finn, “anytime.”

 

Finn gulped, staring back at Poe’s earnest face.  “I—think you think something bigger went down than what actually happened.”

 

Poe pursed his lips.  “Do you want to tell me what actually happened then?”

 

Finn rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not holding his mug of tea.  “No?  Maybe—I guess I might as well.”

 

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” Poe rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s just—dumb,” Finn winced.

 

“How about I judge that for myself,” Poe asked, sitting back and folding his hands in his lap.

 

Finn bit his lip and then shrugged.  “So he’s a reporter.”

 

“I know,” Poe nodded.

 

“You _do_?” 

 

“You told me yesterday,” Poe frowned.  “I don’t have memory loss—how old do you think I am?”

 

“Uh,” Finn blinked, distracted.  “I actually have no idea.”

 

“Thirty-three,” Poe supplies, studying Finn’s face.

 

“And dementia hasn’t set in yet?”

 

“Shut up, kid,” Poe scowled, but his eyes crinkled in cheer.  “You met this reporter for drinks,” he prompted.

 

“Yeah,” Finn grumbled, pausing to take a sip of his still-warm tea.  “But he wasn’t interested in a date.  He just wanted some quotes.”

 

“You do the morning show four times and suddenly you’re a hot shot,” Poe teased, picking up his mug.

 

“Nah, he didn’t want to interview Finn Walker.  He wanted--,” Finn broke off, shaking his head.  “I should probably mention my name isn’t Finn Walker.”

 

Poe snorted into his tea, some of the minty liquid shooting towards Finn’s leg, where droplets fell on his jeans leg in pinpricks of warmth.  Coughing, Poe put his mug back slowly, placing it back on top of the magazine.  “Okay, Jason Borne, run that by me again.”

 

Finn chuckled.  “I wish it was that cool.”  Poe stayed silent and Finn sighed.  “I—use a pseudonym at the station.  My dad and Lando—back when I was signing my first contract, they thought if I used my real last name I would get the wrong kind of attention.  Lando said people wouldn’t take me seriously, might think I was just getting special treatment cause he and Dad go way back.  And I thought it was stupid and I still think it’s stupid but—there’s no arguing with Dad.  Honestly, it can’t be done.  Mass murderers can’t win an argument against Dad.  And he kept saying how it would help me, give me my own space and stuff--,”

 

“Finn Walker,” Poe interrupted, voice emotionless.  Finn’s mouth snapped closed, teeth clicking audibly as the older man stared at him.  “Finn _Sky_ walker.”

 

“…Hi,” Finn offered with a wince.

 

“Fuck,” Poe groaned, digging the heels of him palms into his eyes.

 

“I’m kinda impressed you figured it out,” Finn said, talking to fill the silence.  “You know, since I literally look nothing like him and I’m not in the same field of work or anything like that and--,”

 

“I knew he had a son,” Poe interrupted, dropping his hands but keeping his eyes closed and tilting his head back to rest against the back of his seat.  “And you thought having a pseudonym was dumb so you just dropped the first syllable to be difficult, right?”

 

Finn swallowed; that had been exactly what he had done.  “Kinda,” he answered, nervous that Poe knew him well enough to put that together.  Poe nodded once but didn’t say anything further.  Nervously, Finn took a swallow of his cooling tea.  After a minute Finn braced himself and asked, “Well?”

 

“I thought I knew,” Poe mumbled, eyes opening but looking up at the ceiling instead of Finn.  “I thought I knew radio-you from the real you, but I never did.”

 

Finn snorted.  “Alright, first off, it’s one syllable on my last name.  It’s not that big of a deal.”

 

“Except I’ve known you a year and you’ve been lying to me the entire time,” Poe cut in, eyes narrowing as he shot Finn a hard look.

 

It had been thirteen months since Finn had met Poe but who was counting?  “I haven’t been _lying_ ,” Finn replied slowly.  “You never _asked_ \--,”

 

“I’m sorry, are you about to blame this on me,” Poe asked, sitting up and now looking exactly like a disapproving professor, like Finn was trying to fib his way out of turning in a paper late.  “I was supposed to ask you in-depth questions about whether your name was actually your name?”

 

“It’s written into my contract,” Finn countered, feeling slightly panicked.  “When I’m at the studio I have to be Walker.”

 

“Or else what,” Poe pressed, resting his elbows on his knees and squinting over at Finn.

 

 _Or else I get fired_ , Finn thought.  “Or else I get fined,” he said instead, shrugging. 

 

Poe studied him, eyes scanning Finn’s face.  “And what about outside the studio?  Does this contract say anything about that?”

 

“It only applies when I’m at the station,” Finn answered honestly.

 

“So why didn’t you say anything during—I dunno—the dozens of times we’ve hung out off-air?”

 

“Really?”  Finn smirked.  “How exactly would that have gone?”

 

“Something like how it’s going now,” Poe snapped, tossing his hands up exasperated.  “Does anyone know?  Bastian?  Rey?  _Snap_?”

 

“No, just you and Lando,” Finn replied.  “Congrats.”

 

“I’m honored,” Poe rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.  Finn waited as Poe exhaled heavily.  “Okay.  Do I know anything about you or did you make a whole alter-ego like some kind of method actor—oh, shut up,” Poe glowered as Finn cackled.

 

“It’s not that deep, man,” Finn smiled.  “It’s just a three-letter difference.”

 

Poe sighed, head drooping and shoulders sagging.  “Okay,” he muttered finally.  “Alright.  You’re Finn Skywalker.  Got it.”

 

“You okay,” Finn asked.

 

Poe shrugged, sitting back and reaching for his mug.  “Sure.  Just gotta wrap my head around it.  You know, I was grading papers on your dad’s latest book before you came over.  That’s a weird thought,” he added almost as an afterthought.

 

“ _The Art and Science of Negotiation_?  Did you catch the pun on page sixty-three,” Finn asked, smiling.

 

“No,” Poe said, slowly.

 

“That’s okay.  It’s in French, anyway,” Finn shrugged.  “I put it in there mostly to see if the editor would catch it and she didn’t so--,”

 

“ _You_ put it in there?”

 

“I transcribed all of Dad’s books,” Finn replied easily, taking another sip of tea.  “He’s useless at typing—what?”

 

Poe was staring at Finn like he just said he conjure demons.  “Are you serious?”

 

“About Dad’s typing?  Oh yeah, he uses, like, two fingers,” Finn said, holding up his pointer fingers to demonstrate.

 

“You wrote all of Luke Skywalker’s books,” Poe clarified.

 

“I mean, they’re his words, mostly.  I just typed them up.”  Poe still looked skeptical so Finn added, “There wasn’t much else to do.  I lived off the grid for four years, you know.”

 

“Seriously?  Off the grid?”

 

“God, that’s something to save for when we’re drinking something stronger than tea,” Finn chuckled, tension easing from his shoulders.  “But if you ever wondered why all my references are either from the 90s or earlier, now you know.”

 

“I just thought you were trying to be a hipster and purposely obscure,” Poe replied, a small smile appearing on his lips which had butterflies appearing in Finn’s stomach.

 

“Thanks a lot,” Finn huffed.  Poe laughed, shaking his head.  “Now I have a question for you, Mr. Dameron,” Finn stated seriously.

 

Poe cocked an eyebrow.  “Lay it on me, Mr. Skywalker.”

 

“Where’s the pet?  You are definitely a guy who has a pet around his house.”

 

For some reason Poe looked a bit disappointed by the question but before Finn could ask about that, he said, “I can’t get permission to keep him here.  Housing regulations.  So he lives with my dad out in Haymarket.”

 

“What is it, a horse?  Pig?  Teacup pig?”  Finn could picture Poe with a miniature pig that he walked on a leash.

 

“No,” Poe laughed, tapping away on his cellphone for a moment before passing it over to Finn, who put his mug down next to Poe’s before taking it.

 

“Holy shit,” Finn squeaked.

 

“Yeah, that tends to be people’s reaction,” Poe grinned.

 

“That’s a giant rodent,” Finn gaped, zooming in slightly on the picture to see that, yes, the rabbit’s head was bigger that Poe’s.

 

“He’s a Flemish giant actually,” Poe said easily.  “His name is BB.”

 

“What does that stand for: Big Bunny,” Finn asked sarcastically, tilting his head as he studied the photo of Poe—eyes crinkled from smiling so wide—cuddling a humongous gray-brown rabbit.  Then he noticed Poe hadn’t shot back some clever comeback and Finn slowly raised his head, leveling an unimpressed look at the suspiciously silent man.  “You did not name your mutant rabbit ‘Big Bunny.’”

 

“In my defense,” Poe said sheepishly, “I was very drunk at the time.”

 

“You better have been black-out,” Finn shook his head, handing Poe’s cell back to him.

 

“Oh like you could do better,” Poe challenged, waving the picture at Finn.  Finn frowned, considering.

 

“Falstaff,” he declared.

 

“Falstaff,” Poe repeated.

 

“He was a foppish rogue Shakespeare used for comedic relief.  _Henry IV_ and _Merry Wives of Windsor_ , I think,” Finn explained mindlessly.  Poe pursed his lips and Finn scratched the back of his neck.  “Dad had the complete works of Shakespeare.  I read a lot.  There wasn’t much to do.”

 

“Uh huh,” Poe nodded.  “I take it that’s also a story for another time?”

 

“Not really.  It’s all pretty useless up here,” Finn shrugged, flicking his temple for emphasis.  Poe hummed, clearly not believing a word Finn was saying.  Finn cleared his throat.  “But I can tell you that you need to add stabilizing supports to your beams to help distribute the weight or else you might wake up to your ceiling falling down.”

 

Poe grunted, sending a dark look over to the 4-by-4s as if they had insulted his family.  “Hopefully it doesn’t give way for another few weeks.  My dad’s the one with the tools.”

 

“Do you have beer and a TV that gets the Nationals’ games?”

 

Poe blinked.  “Yes,” he drew out slowly.  “Is this where you tell me I can summon a helpful hobgoblin using alcohol and my cable subscription?”

 

“His name is Han and he owes me a few thousand favors.  Not that he’d ever admit it,” Finn muttered.

 

Poe opened his mouth—most likely to ask some questions about Han that Finn would have to be careful about answering—when the doorbell chimed and Finn exhaled in relief.  They both got to their feet and then shot confused looks at the other.  “Sit, I’ve got this,” Poe said.

 

“I basically invaded your Thursday night,” Finn countered with his best wide-eyed look.  “I owe ya.”

 

Poe let out an oddly bitter-sounding laugh and shook his head.  “Believe me, that’s not what happened.  You can grab some forks if you can find them,” he called over his shoulder as he headed for the front door, leaving Finn scowling in the living room.  Maybe he could find a way to slip Poe a twenty later.

 

Listening to Poe’s indistinct voice conversing with the delivery man Finn made his way back to the kitchen, pulling out his phone that hadn’t stopped vibrating for the past five minutes.  Looking at the alerts that said he had four missed calls from Bastian and ten unread text messages from him and Rey, Finn pressed the Call Back option and squeezed it between his ear and shoulder as he started to pull open drawers.

 

“ _Jesus Christ, what happened?!_ ”

 

“Hey, Bastian,” Finn replied, distracted by the neatly folded beach towels stored next to the dishwasher.  “What’s up?”

 

“ _‘What’s up’?!  What’s up with you?  Did I set you up with a serial killer ‘cause I swear he wasn’t a serial killer in college.  I mean, we all know I’d be the first one to be killed by a serial killer, obviously, so I don’t know what the hell is going on!_ ”

 

“Nah, we just had different intentions,” Finn said, closing a drawer that contained nothing but pens before turning his attention to the cabinets.  “Why, what did he tell you?”

 

“ _He’s been dodging my calls too!  I had to get the telling-off of my life from fucking Dameron to even know anything was wrong.  Thanks for that, by the way._ ”

 

“Wait, what?”  Finn straightened, taking his phone in hand and frowning.  “Poe?”

 

“ _Yeah, he called me, like, thirty minutes ago and scolded me about ‘putting Finn in danger’ and being irresponsible—which, if anyone cares, is not how this went down.  I gave you all his information; it’s not my fault you didn’t check Facebook and stalk him like a normal guy in the twenty-first century._ ”

 

“Poe called you,” Finn repeated, eyes narrowing as he ducked around to see if Poe was on his way back.  He was.  “He seriously called you,” he asked, lowering his voice.

 

“ _Yep, full of vengeful anger.  If you end up getting laid because of this, do I get credit?  I think I get credit._ ”

 

“I’ll let you know,” Finn answered vaguely, sending a smile at Poe’s questioning look.  “I’ve got to go.  Talk to you later.”

 

“ _I’ll see ya on Saturday, right?  I expect full details, babe._ ”

 

“We’ll see,” Finn laughed before ending the call and sliding his phone into his front pocket.

 

“Everything okay,” Poe asked, placing the plastic bag of take-out on the counter.

 

“Uh,” Finn stalled, “yeah, just--one of my friends checking in.  Ya know, blind date safety.”  Poe laughed lowly at that, starting to pull out containers of food.  “Seriously though, where did you hide the forks?”

 

“Ah,” Poe grinned, looking very proud of himself as he opened the microwave above the stove with a flair. 

 

“That’s very dangerous,” Finn informed Poe as the older man pulled down a packed utensil tray.

 

“It’s broken,” Poe provided helpfully.

 

“Why don’t you store your towels in the microwave and put the forks in that drawer,” Finn suggested, marveling that he managed to say that with a straight face.

 

Poe nodded slowly, mulling that over.  “Could work.  I kinda like having the towels near the oven though.”

 

“Then how about moving the gazillion pens?”

 

Poe raised an eyebrow.  “You need to have the pens by the phone, Finn.”

 

“Oh my God,” Finn huffed, smiling and shaking his head.  “You’re so weird.”

 

“Says the guy who ordered lemon chicken.”

 

“That’s totally normal,” Finn said, putting his hands on his hips.

 

“It’s bland.  The sauce is on the side.  You basically ordered fried chicken,” Poe censored.

 

“Maybe that’s what I wanted,” Finn shot back, trying to sound as much like Aunt Leia as he could.  Han and Luke claimed to hate how Leia could make anything sound like a royal decree; Finn had always envied it.

 

Poe snorted.  “Then why didn’t you just say that?  We could’ve gotten KFC down the street.”

 

Finn blinked.  “I—didn’t think of that.”

 

Chuckling, Poe piled the containers into his arms.  “Alright, your highness, grab the forks and some napkins—cabinet next to the fridge.  You can pick what we watch.”

 

“Cartoon Network,” Finn said promptly.

 

“Never mind.  You’ll watch HGTV and like it.”

 

“You watch HGTV and still didn’t know about load-bearing walls?”

 

“I know what they _are_ ; I didn’t know _that one_ was.”

 

“What about Food Network?”

 

“Finn, shut up and eat your fried chicken,” Poe clicked his tongue, turning on the TV above the fireplace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you to all of your amazing readers who reached out. I am doing better, and am so incredibly humbled by all the support. Also, I am super glad there are still people out there enjoying this story.  
> For anyone who reads my other stories, a little update: Swan Prince is being completed now, so keep an eye out for that conclusion some time soon. Also the Charleston series should have a little three-shot going up soon-ish too :)  
> As always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I cherish ever single one!!


	5. A Saturday Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! I'm almost back to having an update schedule! :D  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Chapter warning: mention of an automobile accident.

_Two Days Later_

 

“I’m just saying,” Poe said over his shoulder as he slapped his metro card over the reader and waited for the dividers to part, “it makes no _sense_ \--,”

 

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Finn laughed, sliding his card over the reader after Poe walks through and following as the little light turned green.  “Baseball isn’t about making sense.”

 

“Baseball is for grumpy old men,” Poe countered, shaking his head as Finn falls into step with him and they head for the up escalator out of the U Street metro station.

 

“Then it should be right up your alley,” Finn shot back, laughing brightly at Poe’s slight glare.  “But it’s getting better, you know.  Like what about Harper?  He’s amazing, right?”

 

“I don’t know who that is—why are you saying that like I should know who that is?”

 

“Oh my God,” Finn rolled his eyes, following Poe off the escalator and into the warm night air of DC.  “He’s famous, Poe.”

 

“So is Miguel Ángel Asturias but I don’t expect you to know him,” Poe grumbled.

 

“He wrote the Banana Trilogy and _The President_ ,” Finn said, smirking wide at Poe’s wide-eyed surprise.  “Four years, Poe.  Four years in the woods with nothing but a wonky radio and Dad’s books for entertainment.”

 

“And you remember all of them,” Poe asked incredulously.

 

“Read all of them enough times,” Finn shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and feeling uncomfortable as Poe looked him over with something like thoughtful scrutiny and Finn wasn’t sure he _didn’t_ like it and what would _that_ mean—

 

“—one minute,” came Rey’s voice suddenly and Finn felt both his arms grabbed and he was being dragged backwards, feet scrambling to try and get back under him.

 

“What,” Finn asked bewildered, looking from Rey on his left to Bastian on his right and then glancing back at Poe, who was watching them even as Iolo, Snap, Karé, and Jess surrounded him.

 

“Don’t worry, we’re just gonna ravish you in the alley,” Bastian said cheerfully.

 

“Knowing Bastian, it’ll only be thirty seconds,” Rey teased.

 

“Ooo, raising my average,” Bastian quipped back, winking at Rey who laughed.

 

“I don’t know why I like you guys,” Finn muttered, balancing back on his feet as Rey and Bastian came to a stop just out of view from the others.

 

“I have this voodoo doll, nothing serious—nothing to be worried about,” Bastian said, grinning with all his teeth.  “Now you.  You have some explaining to do, young man.”

 

“ ‘M not young,” Finn mumbled, scowling.

 

“Well, that adorable pout isn’t helping your case,” Rey replied, poking Finn’s cheek.

 

“I’m older than you,” Finn snapped.

 

“Alright, children, that’s enough,” Bastian interjected, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Finn, did you finally get your act together and told Poe you’ve been dreaming about him every night since you’ve met him?”

 

“I haven’t--,”

 

“He hasn’t told him,” Rey groaned, tossing her head back in exasperation.  “Honestly, you spent all Thursday night with him--,”

 

“—at his house,” Bastian added gleefully.

 

“—and you show up tonight with him--,”

 

“That wasn’t planned,” Finn interjected, scratching behind his right ear.  “He had to change to the yellow line at Gallery Place and he happened to get in the same car as me.”

 

“Fate, Finn.  _Divine destiny_ , Finn,” Bastian whispered, slapping the back of his hand over Finn’s heart.  “The entire universe wants this to happen, babe!”

 

“And obviously Bastian is trying to live vicariously through you,” Rey drawled but with a smile.

 

Bastian rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, that’s what this is.  I need you to get with Dameron and then my life will be complete.  I will die a happy, fulfilled man if only you’d let Poe fulfill you--,”

 

“That’s gross,” Finn grimaced.

 

“In a poetic way,” Rey told Bastian, who nodded seriously.

 

“Gross and poetic, that’s me.”

 

“Aren’t we supposed to be getting drunk,” Finn interrupted loudly.  Rey turned to Finn with a wicked smile.

 

“Liquid courage, huh?  I see how it is, Walker.”

 

Finn winced slightly at the use of his studio name.  Still, three days since the disaster with Paul and Leia hadn’t heard anything about it through the pipeline.  Maybe it was considered low-priority, which would buy Finn more time.  He should just tell his friends right now, but he just didn’t want to think about it anymore.

 

“I just need a drink if I’m gonna be stuck with you two all night,” Finn said instead.

 

“Ouch,” Bastian snorted.  “Accurate but hurtful.”

 

“Come on, the old folks are leaving us behind,” Rey sighed, craning around the side of the metro entrance to look.  “If it’s gonna be one of those nights we’re all gonna need some drinks.”

 

“Nah, it’s gonna be good,” Bastian said definitively, slinging an arm around Finn’s shoulders as the three of them headed back.  Finn let himself be led by his older friend because even though he had googled where the bar was before heading out, he’d never actually been there and chances were Bastian had.  “Even if we’re relegated to the kiddie table—they’re just jealous of how amazing we are.”

 

“I thought the whole point of these nights out was to _bond_ ,” Rey complained, saying the last word with a heavy dose of disgust.  “How can we _bond_ when they just go off and do their own thing?”

 

“We could try joining them,” Finn suggested, turning the corner and noticing the others were already heading into a dark bar halfway down the block.  “It’s not like we have to be segregated by age, right?”

 

“We tried that and it was really awkward,” Rey pointed out.

 

“It was, but that was then and this is now,” Bastian stated.  “And now, we’re going to have a good night, hand to God.”

 

Rey rolled her shoulders back and nodded, handing off her driver’s license when they reach the bouncer.  She gets a stamp of a cat on her hand and slips inside, waiting just inside the door while Finn and Bastian fumble to get their wallets out as the bouncer made it clear he wasn’t going to let them in without age verification.

 

“The curse of a healthy, youthful appearance,” Bastian chuckled somewhat wistfully, getting his stamp.  “We’re gonna be forty and still get carded.”

 

“I’m not as thrilled about that as you are,” Finn shook his head, shaking his hand slightly to dry the ink and shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

 

“That’s cause you’re still on the right side of twenty-five,” Bastian laughed, elbowing Finn in the ribs with a grin.  Then he bounced up to his toes and looked around.  “Looks like Snap and the ladies found a table.  I think there’s an empty one behind them.”

 

“That’s us then,” Rey huffed out, just loud enough over the Blink-182 song pounding through the speakers.  “I’ll get the first round.  The usual?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Finn nodded.  “I’ll get the next one.”  Rey threw him a thumbs up before threading her way over to the long wood bar while Finn and Bastian wove their way over to the far end of the space, past a row of pinball machines and two pool tables to the dimly lit section of low couches and tall tables.  Sure enough, Snap, Karé, and Jess were leaning around on of the tall tables, laughing.  Bastian slapped Snap’s back in greeting before continuing on to a vacant table just behind them.  Finn paused long enough to send a smile around, which was returned, before he moved to lean next to Bastian.  “Rey’s right.”

 

“She always is,” Bastian admitted with a shrug, already doodling on the wooden tabletop with a Sharpie he magicked from somewhere.  “Still gonna be a good night.  You’re talking to Poe if I have to lock the two of you in the toilets.”

 

Finn noticed that Bastian was drawing exaggerated cartoon hearts in a zigzag arrangement and snorted.  “You sure you’re not the one in love with him?”

 

Bastian smiled down at where he was coloring in one of the hearts, but the smile didn’t seem as bright as Finn was accustomed to seeing on his friend.  “You got me.  Poe and me are secretly madly in love, and I’ve concocted this elaborate ruse whereby I convince you that you’re in love with him because I need the broken heart of a virgin in order to gain immortality--,”

 

“That’s weirdly detailed,” Finn commented, grinning.  “Also, I’m not a virgin.”

 

“Well fuck,” Bastian frowned.  “There goes that plan.”

 

Finn threw back his head and laughed and Bastian’s slightly high-pitched giggle joined him.  When he calmed down to gasp for breath, his abs burning slightly from the exertion, Finn snatched the Sharpie out of Bastian’s hand and started to sketch a rose because it was the first thing that came to mind.  “We’re so weird, dude.”

 

“But in a cool way,” Bastian winked, glancing over at the bar.  Finn followed his gaze, noticing that Rey was being served and Iolo had joined the other table and was distributing drinks.  Curious, Finn straightened and scanned the length of the bar, looking for the familiar brown leather jacket.  “He’s at the far end,” Bastian’s voice came suddenly, close to Finn’s ear.

 

Finn sent Bastian a glare, but Bastian just shrugged and jerked his chin towards the other end of the bar.  Finn angled himself away from the other man and turning his attention in the indicated direction.  There was Poe, air tousled as usual, leaning against the bar with a beer bottle in one hand.  That would be all good and fine if he wasn’t also completely engaged in a conversation with some DC prep Finn had never seen before.  “That’s new,” Finn mumbled, mostly to himself.

 

“Could be his cousin,” Bastian said, taking back the marker and adding another heart to his creation.

 

Finn looked over the blond gelled hair of Poe’s conversation partner, taking in the guy’s blue button-up (cuffs rolled to show a pink interior because of course).  “They don’t look like cousins,” Finn replied grudgingly.

 

“I’ve got these cousins—half-black, half-Cuban—and they don’t look a think like me,” Bastian supplied, capping the marker.  “It’s nothing, babe.”

 

“What’s nothing,” Rey asked, setting down the two beer bottles in her hand and a glass of cider, sliding the latter to Bastian and nudging Finn’s shoulder.

 

“Poe’s talking to someone,” Bastian filled her in before taking a gulp of his drink.

 

“Really,” Rey asked surprised, turning around to try and catch a glimpse.  Finn swatted at her.

 

“We can’t both stare,” he hissed.

 

“Why don’t we take turns,” Bastian joked.  “We’ll make a schedule.”

 

“Shut up,” Finn tossed at the older man.

 

“Oh, I see them.  Ew,” Rey wrinkled her nose, “that guy is a law student at Georgetown—I can smell it from here.”

 

“Clearly not Poe’s type,” Bastian supplied as Finn slumped, grabbing one of the bottles of Sam Adams.

 

“No way.  Poe wants someone more mature,” Rey told Finn with a smile.

 

“Want me to ask Snap if he knows the guy,” Bastian offered.  Finn didn’t say anything but he felt his lip twist and Bastian sighed.  “Be back in a sec.”

 

“You know this isn’t a big deal, right,” Rey told Finn as Bastian sauntered over to the Elders’ Table.  Finn shrugged moodily and took a swallow of cold beer, forcing himself not to turn back around and watch Poe.  “You did go for drinks with another guy, like, two days ago.”

 

“Yeah, and it sucked and I ended up having dinner with Poe,” Finn said sharply.    

 

“Right.  So how is Poe talking to someone else any different,” Rey asked, tilting her head to the side.

 

“Because Poe and I weren’t anything when I agreed to meet Paul,” Finn said, resting his elbows on the table and pushing the beer bottle back and forth between his hands.

 

“Are you two something now,” Rey grinned, eyebrows shooting up her forehead.

 

“Well,” Finn paused, “not—not really.  But we’re more than we _were_.”

 

“Does Poe know that?”

 

“Fuck,” Finn groaned, bowing his head.  “I don’t know, Rey.”

 

“And no one is ever _going_ to know unless you get your shit together and talk to him,” Rey snapped without any real anger.  “Seriously, you’ve spent over a year getting to know this guy and it’s obvious that you’re in love with him but it’s never going to go anywhere if you don’t _talk to him_!”

 

“Maybe it’s not obvious to me,” Finn shot back, glaring down at his beer.  “Maybe unlike you and Bastian, I don’t know what being in love looks like.  Maybe I don’t want to ruin whatever I have for something I don’t know.”

 

A large hand settled between Finn’s shoulder blades and Finn jerked, turning his head to take in Bastian’s soft frown.  “Good news, you’re finally being honest, babe.  Bad news, Snap and Iolo don’t know who that guy is.”

 

“Damn,” Finn sighed.  He didn’t have to look to know that Rey and Bastian exchanged some kind of look because the next thing he heard was:

 

“I’m getting shots” from Bastian and,

 

“There’s a pool table free.  Five bucks says I’ll beat you” from Rey.

 

*****

 

Two shots and another beer later, Finn had beaten Rey easily (he felt a little bad about gaslighting her: he had been playing pool with Han since he was tall enough to see over the edge of a pool table) and had barely beaten Bastian at darts.  Some of the others had drifted over and away, Jess cheered when Finn sunk the eight ball with a double deflection and Karé and Snap toasted him when he beat Bastian while Bastian moaned dramatically about cheating.  Poe was back at the Elders’ Table sans the prep but for some reason that didn’t make Finn feel as relieved as he thought it would.  Instead his stomach felt knotted, tightening whenever he glanced over at and saw Poe laughing with Iolo or arguing playfully with Jess.

 

“What we’ve gotta do,” Bastian announced, swirling the cider in his glass like it was a fine wine, “is see how Finn’s aim decreases the more drunk he gets.”

 

“No, we don’t,” Finn laughed, leaning against the new tall table they had claimed.

 

“Yeah, we do.  For science,” Rey grinned.  “We could make a bar graph.”

 

“Or a line graph,” Bastian said.

 

“Or both,” Rey exclaimed, pointing at Bastian.

 

“Now don’t go crazy,” Bastian cautioned, eyes bending into crescents as he smiled widely.

 

“So what are you youngsters talking about,” Iolo asked, appearing between Rey and Bastian and placing what Finn suspected was a gin and tonic on the table.

 

“Graphing techniques,” Finn replied seriously.

 

Iolo blinked.  “If that’s a euphemism I’m in over my head.”

 

“Are you a line guy or a bar guy,” Rey asked Iolo dead-pan.

 

“Uh, neither?  Either?  I don’t know what that means,” Iolo sputtered, turning to Finn for help.

 

“I’d say bar,” Finn told Iolo, looking him up and down and pursing his lips.

 

“I agree,” Rey nodded.  “You seem like a steady guy.”

 

“And lines aren’t steady,” Iolo asked, brow furrowed.

 

“Nah, see, lines go up and down,” Bastian jumped in, wafting his hand lazily to demonstrate.  “You never know with a line.  But a bar?  A bar is there,” he finished emphatically, holding his hand up and firm.  “Ya know?”

 

“That’s deep,” Iolo said, slightly awed, and Finn wondered how much the guy had had to drink.

 

“Deeper than I thought,” Rey smirked, high-fiving Bastian.

 

“You should use that on your show,” Iolo told Finn, who snorted into his beer as Rey and Bastian howled with laughter.  “I’m serious,” Iolo continued loudly.  “It’s a good metaphor!”

 

“Are you over here boring them with a grammar lesson,” Poe asked, suddenly standing between Finn and Bastian and Finn had to do a double-take.

 

“Poe, you’ve gotta here this bar and line thing they’ve got,” Iolo started.

 

“No, you really don’t,” Finn interjected quickly.

 

Poe turned slightly to smile at Finn, who felt his lips turn up in response.  “I’m going to go with Finn on this one.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Iolo asked, smirking and bringing his drink to his lips.

 

“He’s never led me wrong,” Poe said with sincerity and Finn swallowed drily.  Finn would have liked a few uninterrupted minutes to consider all the implications of that statement (although who was he fooling, he would be doing that all Sunday most likely) but instead Bastian got sprayed with spit and gin as Iolo snorted, sending liquid projectiles flying.

 

“ _Finn’s_ never led you wrong?  _Finn_?”  Iolo reached around Bastian (who was making a show of wiping his face) and slapped Poe’s chest.  “I was the one who stopped you from eating that ghost pepper.  I stopped you from getting a goat tattoo over your heart.  I saved your life!  But _Finn’s_ never led you wrong?”

 

“This got territorial quick,” Rey said with wide eyes.

 

“Iolo owes me a drink,” Bastian groused, pushing his glass away, “since he spat in this one.”

 

“Oh.  God, I’m sorry,” Iolo said, switching to apologetic quickly.  “That’s—I’m so sorry.  What are you drinking?”

 

“Cider,” Bastian answered, making a face at the surprised looks Poe and Iolo sent him at that.  “It’s alcoholic apple juice.  My inner four-year-old is delighted.”

 

“And if you say anything about it being a ‘girly’ drink,” Finn added, “he will give you a ten-minute lecture--,”

 

“—complete with demonstrations,” Rey interrupted.

 

“—on casual sexism and alcoholic beverages,” Finn finished with a smile as Bastian reached around Poe to pat Finn’s cheek affectionately.

 

“See if I don’t,” Bastian told Iolo.

 

Iolo held up his hands.  “No judgement.  Uh, is there a cider you prefer?”

 

Bastian let out an exaggerated put-upon sigh.  “I’ll just come with ya.  Rey, you want anything?”

 

Rey looked down at her half-full beer bottle and shrugged.  “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

“Wait, isn’t this my round,” Finn asked, trying to remember if had bought any rounds yet.  Bastian shook his head, pausing as he walked by to plant a kiss on the back of Finn’s neck before he and Rey linked arms and started making their way to the bar with a confused Iolo trailing behind.  “I’m pretty sure I was supposed to get this round.”

 

“Doesn’t look like they’re going to let you,” Poe mentioned and Finn realized he was somehow left with alone with the older man and he bit back a groan.  “Having fun,” Poe asked over the collective shout that went through the bar as the opening chords of _Ocean Avenue_ came on.

 

“Yeah,” Finn called back.  “You?”

 

“Not bad.  It’s really loud in here,” Poe said, leaning in close to speak into Finn’s ear.

 

Finn thought it was about an average decibel level but shrugged.  “Or you’ve got your hearing aids turned up too far,” he said, forehead knocking against the side of Poe’s temple as he swayed into the older man.  Poe smiled with his head bowed to hear Finn before looking up through his eyelashes and Finn felt his heartbeat stutter.

 

_If I could find you now things would get better_

 

“Need air,” Finn choked out and Poe’s smile instantly dropped into a look of concern.

 

“Sure, buddy.  Come on.”  And Poe griped Finn’s bicep and turned him, hand dropping to lace their fingers together as he pulled Finn through the crowd.  Finn looked over to the bar and somehow managed to catch Bastian’s eye, who clapped Iolo on the shoulder and started to follow.

 

Poe sent a quick smile at the bouncer as they emerged and Finn blinked against the glare of the streetlights.  “Uh,” Finn started, swallowing to try and pop his ears.

 

“Do you want to sit down?  Here, let’s--,” Poe broke off and guided Finn over to the stoop of a closed bookstore and Finn sank down onto the step, crossing his arms over his bent knees and ducking his head down, wondering if he could stay like this until Poe forgot what just happened.

 

“Hey, the old folks want to move to another bar,” Bastian’s voice said somewhere above Finn.  “Too loud or something.  Anyway, do you have a tab to close out?”

 

“Yeah, but it can wait,” Poe answered.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Bastian said and Finn wished he could disappear.  There was a pause and then, “Seriously, Dameron, it’s fine.  He gets overheated like, every time we go out.  He just needs a minute to breath.”

 

“Really,” Poe asked.

 

_No_ , Finn thought.

 

“Every time,” Bastian replied.  “He’ll be here when you get back.”

 

Finn felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder and then Poe said, “I’ll be right back, Finn.”

 

Finn grunted in response and then heard footsteps retreating, but only one set.  He glanced over just in time to see Bastian folded himself down next to him with a neutral expression on his face.  Finn bent his head down again, but Bastian wormed a hand around Finn’s arm and griped Finn’s chin and titled his face up.  “You okay, babe?”

 

“Have you ever been in love,” Finn blurted out before he could stop himself.  Bastian’s eyes widened a fraction and his hand dropped back into his lap.

 

“Yeah,” Bastian nodded, “I have.”

 

“Is it—is it always this weird?”

 

Bastian snorted, a slightly dazed look coming over his face.  “Yeah.  It’s mostly just—putting yourself out there and looking like an idiot but for some reason the other guy thinks it’s cute and you think everything he does is cute and—and it clicks together kinda.”

 

Finn gulped.  “And then what?”

 

“Then,” Bastian continued with a slight smile, gazing down at his hands and rotating the silver ring on his left thumb slowly, “the honeymoon fades away.  You realize he chews cereal obnoxiously loud and he gets mad when you don’t wash your sheets every Sunday.  But there’s so much good that the little things don’t seem that important.  You work it out.”

 

“Poe doesn’t use coasters,” Finn said quietly.

 

Bastian huffed a chuckle.  “Yeah, stuff like that.  But it doesn’t annoy you that much, right?”

 

Finn nodded, thinking about Poe’s kitchen—how that level of chaos and disorganization would normally drive him up the wall.  But actually, Finn thought it was funny and cute and—how Poe’s kitchen should look.  Finn turned back to Bastian and found him staring down at his hands, thoughts far off.  “And then,” Finn prompted, although he felt nervous about what came next.

 

“I don’t know,” Bastian murmured, looking up and focusing vaguely at the closed restaurant across the street.  Finn hummed curiously and poked Bastian’s side with his elbow.  “In my experience,” Bastian sighed, “then you graduate from college and he takes off down I-95 to visit his family in Raleigh for a couple weeks.  Killed by an overturned tractor trailer just outside of Fredericksburg.”

 

“Oh my God.”

 

“I’m told that’s not how the story normally ends,” Bastian added, probably aiming for humor but falling flat.  He was staring at his ring again—a ring Finn had never seen him take off.  The only jewelry Bastian ever wore.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Finn breathed.  Bastian shook his head and wrapped an arm around Finn’s waist, pulling him against the older man’s side.

 

“Nothing for you to apologize for,” Bastian said as Finn tucked his head under Bastian’s chin.  “We had two good years.  Some people never get that.  Some people don’t let themselves have that.”

 

“Like me,” Finn sighed.

 

“Listen.  I’m not saying I’m some expert because I was in love once.  That’s not how this works, and God knows I’m in no position to be giving out advice.  Ninety-five percent of the time I’m a mess.”

 

“No,” Finn said.

 

“Yes,” Bastian countered lightly.  “But I—I want you to try.  I know it’s hard for you to open up to people; I’ve seen it.  And I know it’s scary.  God, I was terrified—letting someone in, see me for every mistake and flaw and—and dumb thing I’d ever done.  But I had to ‘cause I wanted to know everything about him too.  And maybe you’re right.  Maybe Poe isn’t that person for you.  And if you can look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you don’t think Poe could make you happy then I’d drop it in a second—no questions.”

 

Finn sniffed, twisting his finger together with Bastian’s free hand.  “I don’t know but—but he does.”

 

“Then as someone who knows how awesome it is, I have to keep bugging you until you’re ready.”

 

“Hey.”  Finn and Bastian turned to see Rey, Iolo, and Poe standing next to them, each of them looking a combination of confused and concerned as they stared down at the pair.  Rey cleared her throat.  “Snap says there’s another bar two blocks down that’s chill.”

 

“Sounds good,” Bastian said brightly, pulling away from Finn.  “We just finished our monthly tipsy therapy session.  Same time, same stoop, okay,” he said to Finn as he stood and held out a hand to pull Finn up.

 

“Everything okay,” Iolo asked, looking between Bastian and Finn.

 

“God, can’t two brothers cuddle platonically on a Saturday night on the street without getting the Spanish Inquisition,” Bastian joked, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.  “So where are we heading?  This way?”

 

Bastian took off purposefully down the street and Finn had no idea how he knew where to go.  Iolo stared for a second before jogging to catch up with him; Finn wondered if Iolo always looked at Bastian like that or if it was a new development.  Rey shot Finn a questioning look and he responded with a slight smile, which was enough for Rey to nod and take off after Iolo and Bastian.

 

“Feeling better,” Poe asked as he and Finn fell into step again, following the others at a more sedated pace.

 

“You know what,” Finn said, thinking everything over, “I think I am.”

 

“Good,” Poe beamed.  “I was afraid you were going to faint back there, and my first aid card is expired.”

 

Finn smiled easily at that.  “Damn.  Would’ve had to leave me to die, huh?”

 

“Talk to the card, man.  It’s not my fault,” Poe said cheekily and Finn shoved him lightly in the shoulder.

 

“I’m gonna write on my arm next time: ‘If found dead, it’s Poe Dameron’s fault.’”

 

Poe laughed.  “Seems fair.  Or I could just take another CPR class.”

 

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Finn winked.

 

“It’s inconvenient, but being arrested for your murder probably would too.”

 

“But just ‘probably.’”

 

“Well, I’ve never been arrested for murder before,” Poe shrugged.

 

“What have you been arrested for,” Finn asked quickly, jumping at the opening.

 

Poe’s eyes went wide.  “None of your business.”

 

“I was arrested for attempting to break into the US embassy in Paris,” Finn offered.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“It was a misunderstanding, and luckily Dad knows everyone in every embassy from here to Hong Kong so I didn’t get in trouble.  Well,” Finn added, “no _official_ trouble.  Dad was furious.”

 

“What—why— _how_ \--,” Poe shook his head wildly.  “What were you _doing_?”

 

“I jumped a fence to get away from—this guy,” Finn said, deciding he didn’t need to spend his night trying to explain Ben to Poe.  “Turns out it was the back of the US embassy and I was surrounded by diplomatic police in three seconds.”

 

Poe gaped at Finn as Finn kept walking, a small bounce in his step.  Maybe Bastian was on to something; opening up to someone a little wasn’t so bad.  Poe caught up with Finn and said, “Indecent exposure on my twenty-first birthday.”

 

Finn burst out laughing.  “Of _course_ you did!”

 

“Not my finest moment,” Poe grimaced.  “That was also the night Iolo had to stop me from getting that tattoo.”

 

“So you don’t have a goat inked on your chest,” Finn asked, pretending to be disappointed.

 

“Nope,” Poe said and then winked.  “Back of my left calf.”

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

Poe grabbed Finn’s shoulder to balance himself as he hiked up his jeans leg a bit and Finn squinted down to make out four hooved legs.

 

“Can I ask why a goat or is that a touchy subject,” Finn asked as Poe straightened and they continued walking.

 

“Legend has it a goat discovered coffee.”  Finn blinked and Poe shrugged.  “I like coffee.”

 

“Huh,” Finn said.  “You know, I like electricity but I don’t have Ben Franklin tattooed anywhere.”

 

“Probably for the best.  I hear he was a bit of playboy and his face tattooed on your arm might give people the wrong idea.”

 

Finn snorted and then started laughing uncontrollably as Poe joined in, both stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, bent over in hysterics.

 

“Not to interrupt,” Snap said loudly over their mirth, “but Bastian wants to start a dart tournament and I was sent to ask Finn if he was up for a rematch.”

 

Finn gasped for breath.  “S-sure,” he managed, still smiling wide.  “But then I should head out.”  Finn braced himself and turned to Poe, who was still chuckling to himself.  “Wanna share an Uber?”

 

Poe’s laughing stopped immediately, blinking at Finn.  “Uh—yeah.  Yeah, sounds good.”

 

“Cool,” Finn said, smiling softening around the edges.

 

“Cool,” Poe echoed, staring.

 

“Splendid,” Snap added, crossing his arms.  “Now get inside, you idiots.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that kinda fun? I kinda had fun writing it :)
> 
> As always, thank you thank you for all the wonderful comments and kudos from the last chapter. You are all absolutely amazing! :D


	6. When the Calm Might be the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! First off, penultimate chapters are always tricky for me. Secondly, I was moving the past two weekends and that cuts into writing time ;) but here ya go!

Finn leaned his cheek against the air condition-cooled window of the Uber, listening with half an ear to the rapid-fire conversation between Poe and the Uber driver Santiago on US immigration.  They had started off mixing English and Spanish (for Finn’s benefit, he suspected) but Finn had assured them in his academic, lisping Castilian Spanish that he understood.  In retrospect that might not have been his smartest move of the night because Poe and Santiago had dissolved into frantic give-and-take and Finn could only catch the odd key word.  It almost made Finn feel guilty he hadn’t taken his dad’s Spanish lessons that seriously—but come on, he had spent years learning French with his aunt, why did he have to learn Spanish just because Dad showed up and felt left out?  But whatever; Finn had other things to think about like the very telling conversation he had had with the star of the Morning Crew.

 

_Finn perched on a bar stool, swinging his legs slightly as he watched Bastian and Rey exchange jabs during their darts set.  Finn had been knocked out by a surprisingly skilled Snap, who was up to face Poe after Rey and Bastian finished.  Bastian laughed loudly—drawing looks from the other occupants of the bar which Bastian had dubbed “more comatose than chill”—and grabbed the darts from Rey, readying himself.  Shifting next to him drew Finn’s attention to Iolo, leaning his back against the bar and staring.  Following his eyeline Finn smirked when he saw Bastian’s ass, slightly thrust back as he leaned into his throw._

_“You’re staring,” Finn said, elbowing Iolo’s shoulder good-naturedly.  Iolo blinked and frowned, looking over at Finn._

_“I’m zoning,” he countered, crossing his arms.  “Long week, you know?”_

_Finn nodded.  “Longest week yet by far,” he agreed.  “But I’m not ogling Bastian’s butt ‘cause I’m tired.”_

_“I’m not--,”_

_“Save it, dude,” Finn shook his head and smiled.  “I have eyes.”_

_“Don’t use 'em much though,” Iolo grumbled, jerking his chin pointedly towards Poe, who had angled himself against one of the nearby tables and occasionally glanced in Finn’s direction._

_“Yeah, I’m working on that,” Finn shrugged, privately amazed at the sudden burst honesty.  Judging by Iolo’s double-take, he was surprised too.  “Are you saying you’re staring at Bastian like Poe’s staring at me?”_

_“No,” Iolo said too quickly and firmly.  “He has a nice ass.  Just a fact.”_

_“I never noticed,” Finn commented, snagging a sip out of Bastian’s cider he had been told to watch (“who knows what kind of 1970s roofies these old farts have up their sleeves,” he had joked, earning a shove from Jess and a quick lecture that roofies aren't a joke)._

_“Oh come on.  The two of you have been all over each other from day one,” Iolo snapped, sounding vaguely annoyed.  Finn’s smirk grew._

_“Jealous?”_

_Iolo rolled his eyes.  “You know you really messed with Poe, right?  He thought it was just a matter of time before you and Bastian got together.”_

_“Never gonna happen,” Finn said.  “We not like that.  And,” he continued, catching Iolo’s eye, “I don’t think Poe was the only one upset about that idea, right?”_

_Iolo swallowed, turning his back to the darts board as Bastian finished marking up his score and handed the darts off to Rey.  “I’m not his type.”_

_“How do you know?”_

_“Because he’s an out-every-night, wild child, free spirit and this is literally the only time I’m going out this month.”_

_Finn frowned.  “What does that have to do with you not being his type?”_

_“Finn, I’d bore him in a second.”_

_“You know I’ve spent four hours at his apartment talking about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?  We’ve been to a Nats’ double-header and actually watched both games, dead sober.  He doesn’t go out all the time ‘cause he gets bored if he doesn’t—he goes out to meet someone he can stay in with.”  Iolo’s jaw dropped and Finn slid off his seat.  “But whatever.  You’re scared, and that’s your problem.  Just—know that Bastian isn’t scared, okay?”_

_And Finn walked over and joined Poe’ and Jess’s debate over Wendy’s fries or MacDonald’s._

“Finn, this your building?”

 

Finn blinked, refocusing on his surroundings.  Both Poe and Santiago were looking at him with encouraging smiles, like someone trying to support a kid at a spelling bee.  Finn snorted, glancing out the car window.  “Yeah, this is it.  Um,” he paused, looking over at Poe.

 

“Vé con él,” Santiago said to Poe.  _[Go with him.]_

 

“Si lo se,” Poe shot back with a smile.  _[Yeah, I know.]_

 

“Puedo oírte,” Finn mentioned, popping his door open.   _[I can hear.]_   “Thanks, Santiago.”

 

“De nada.  Tenga una buena noche.”  _[You're welcome.  Have a good night.]_

 

Finn nodded and climbed out while Poe and Santiago exchanged a few more words, possibly numbers since they were probably best friends by now.  Poe scrambled out and joined Finn on the sidewalk.  “Did you have fun,” Finn teased, nodding towards Santiago’s silver Prius as it slowly drove off.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out,” Poe winced.

 

“Nah, I was joking.  I got the gist.”

 

“Right.  You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you,” Poe asked with a crooked smile.

 

“My Spanish isn’t that good,” Finn admitted, starting to lead Poe towards the front of his apartment building.  “Dad tried to teach me but he was gone so much when I was a kid—he tried again when we were at the cabin, but he kept mixing up his Italian and Spanish.  It got pretty confusing.”

 

“Did you have to learn Spanish in high school?”

 

“Home schooled,” Finn supplied with a shrug.  “There was a language requirement but I’m kinda fluent in French so I just did that.  Easiest class.  Dad was so annoyed.”

 

“Why,” Poe asked as Finn chuckled at the memory.

 

“He said I was cheating.”  Finn caught Poe’s skeptical look by the glow of the door light and smiled.  “Dad’s a bit of hard ass.”

 

“Yeah, I got that impression,” Poe answered.  “Makes mine sound like Winnie the Pooh.”

 

“Obsessed with honey?”

 

“Strangely enough, he does have some beehives,” Poe smiled as Finn chuckled.  The moment of truth came at the front door and Finn fumbled to get his keys out of his pocket, keeping his eyes down because he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to without knowing where Poe stood.  “I’ll walk you to your door,” came Poe’s soft voice, and Finn breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“You and your Victorian manners,” he teased, unlocking the main door and holding it open for the older man.

 

“I think a Victorian would die of shock at this whole situation,” Poe commented, watching Finn click the door shut behind him and then start for the stairs.  He lived on the third floor and didn’t bother with the elevator.

 

“What, two men walking up the stairs?”

 

“Is that what this is,” Poe asked, raising an eyebrow, hands in pockets.

 

Finn swallowed.  “Well--,”

 

“We probably should talk about it,” Poe said as they turned the corner to the second flight of stairs.

 

“Right.”

 

“Maybe not at three in the morning,” Poe suggested with an easy smile.

 

“After drinking all night,” Finn added, even though he knew neither of them were drunk.  Poe probably hadn’t even gotten past tipsy at any point.

 

“Right,” Poe agreed.  They reached the third floor and Finn’s door was two apartments to the left, on the corner.

 

“That being said,” Finn said slowly, starting for his door with Poe keeping close, “we could die.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“I mean, stuff happens and—and maybe,” Finn broke off outside his door and took a deep breath.  He turned his back to the door so he could be face to face with Poe, who had stopped walking and was watching Finn with mild concern.  “Maybe it’s not the worst thing to be honest with someone.”

 

“We can talk later,” Poe enunciated.  “I will do my best not to die in the Uber home.”

 

Finn rolled his shoulders.  “Yeah, we can have an actual talk later.  But—there’s something I’d like to clear up…if you don’t have somewhere else to be.”

 

Poe blinked, glancing around the lit hallway.  “I mean, if it’s that important my date with Liam Neeson can wait.  He lives one floor up, right?”

 

Finn’s lips twitched up.  “Nah, he’s one building over.”

 

“My bad.”

 

“Sorry.”  Finn swallowed drily.  “Okay, so.”  Poe took a half step closer and cocked his head to the side, waiting.  “So I’ve been told that I have a problem with…opening up to people.”

 

“Everyone does,” Poe cut in.

 

“Yeah, but I—I really don’t.  And that might, probably, have been confusing.”  Poe was staring in mild horror now, and Finn panicked.  “Which is bad and I get that and I’m trying to fix it now so if you’ll hear me out--,”

 

“Finn,” came a deep voice behind him and Finn squeaked and spun around on his heel, wide eyes meeting bright blue ones.

 

“ _Dad_?  What the _hell_?”

 

“My apologies.  I thought you were expecting me,” Luke said, frowning slightly as he looked his son over.  Finn crossed his arms, self-consciously, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

 

“On Sunday.  I was expecting you on _Sunday_.”  Finn groaned as Luke pointedly looked at the watch on his arm.  “At a reasonable time on Sunday, Dad.”

 

“I’ve always preferred driving at night.”  Then Luke’s gaze shifted over Finn’s shoulder.  “Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

 

Finn glared but Luke smiled charmingly around him.  “Dad, this is Poe,” Finn said, begrudgingly.  He looked over his shoulder, noticing that Poe was standing further away than before, like he had been trying to inch away.  “Poe, this is my dad, Luke.  He’s going to be staying with me for a bit unless I throw him out.”

 

“Come in,” Luke said, standing away from the open door and waving them in.  Finn sighed and turned back, bracing himself for what was bound to be the most awkward goodbye of his life.  “Both of you,” Luke added.

 

“No, Dad, that’s—Poe has to get home,” Finn stammered.  “Seriously, he lives almost an hour away and--,”

 

“Then I’m sure he’d appreciate the guest room,” Luke said, retreating into the dimly illuminated apartment.  Finn groaned, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

 

“I think I’m just going to slip away, if that’s alright,” Poe’s voice said behind Finn.

 

“That would be fine but you won’t make to the stairs,” Finn grumbled.

 

“What’s he gonna do: lasso me?”

 

“Poe, could you give me a hand with the pull-out couch,” Luke called.

 

“Sure, sir,” Poe replied instinctively, his eyes widening a second later when he realized what he had said.

 

“Told you so,” Finn sighed, ushering Poe in with a flourish. 

 

“How did he do that,” Poe whispered as he passed Finn into the apartment.

 

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have been stuck in the woods for four years,” Finn muttered back, closing the door behind him and flicking on the overhead light.  Luke must have been there for a while; Finn noticed his dishes from dinner had been washed and put on the drying rack, his coffee table had been cleared of books, and _The Maltese Falcon_ was paused on the TV.  “I’m going to get something to drink.  Either of you want anything?”

 

“No alcohol,” Luke commented as he piled the couch cushions in the armchair.

 

“Twenty-four years old, Dad,” Finn shot back blandly, even though he was planning on downing some Gatorade to strive off any hang-over.  He pulled out a strawberry one from the fridge and waved it towards Poe, who nodded as he stood at something like parade rest, waiting for instructions.  “Dad.  Tea?”

 

“No, thank you.  But you could find the sheets.  Did you make up the guest room yet?”

 

Finn hummed, pouring some of the Gatorade into a glass before taking a swig from the bottle.  “Yeah, all set.  Actually, can you help me with the pillows,” Finn asked his dad with a look as he handed Poe the glass.  Poe finished it in two swallows.

 

“Of course.  Poe, just push the coffee table back and lift up the bed,” Luke instructed with a smile while Finn guided his dad by the arm away towards the linen closet in the bathroom. 

 

“You know, Poe never said he was staying over,” Finn hissed softly as he opened the closet door and blocked Poe’s view of them.

 

“I thought that was tacitly assumed by him standing at your door at three in the morning,” Luke countered, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No, Dad, that is never _tacitly assumed_.”

 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were romantically involved,” Luke frowned.  “You look like you are.”

 

“Well, we’re not,” Finn muttered, thrusting a pile including a sheet set and a light blanket (in identical cream because his aunt was crazy) into Luke’s arms.  “And we’re never going to be now that you’ve practically kidnapped him.”

 

Luke seemed to mull that over.  “I’m not sure this constitutes kidnapping.”

 

“Glad you sorted that out,” Finn said drily, two pillows and pillowcases under his arm.  He scowled at his dad before closing the door and heading back to the living room.  Poe was perched on the edge of the foldout bed with Zuri standing in his lap and headbutting his chest.  “And that’s Zuri.”

 

“I remember her from the charity day,” Poe smiled, scratching her behind the ears.  “I was worried you were going to adopt every animal there.”

 

“It was a close call,” Finn joked, dropping the pillows onto the mattress.  “This is your last chance to make a run for it.  If I play the movie he’ll get distracted by Humphrey Bogart and you can get out.”

 

Poe bit his bottom lip.  “I don’t want to intrude.”

 

“Seriously?  This isn’t intruding, but you might have early onset Stockholm Syndrome.”  Poe huffed a chuckle at that and Finn glanced over at his Dad, who was lurking in the kitchen in an attempt to give them space.  “But uh—you know, the guest room is all set up…and Dad will probably make breakfast.  He’s kinda anti-drinking but he makes great hang-over food.”

 

“I thought I was sleeping on the couch,” Poe said, looking up with an easy smile and Finn felt his shoulders relax.

 

“Nah, this is for me,” Finn said, grabbing one of the pillows and holding it against his chest with his chin as he picked up a pillowcase.  “Guests get the guest room.”

 

“What about your dad?”

 

“Ah.  Only the best for Dad.”

 

“I’ll have you know I slept in the Amazon rainforest with nothing but a mosquito net and a sleeping bag,” Luke said loudly to mark his entrance.

 

“Not recently,” Finn mumbled as he tried to shimmy the pillow into place.  “The only room in the cabin with a heater was his,” he told Poe.

 

“You had a fireplace,” Luke defended himself, shaking out the fitted sheet.

 

“A fireplace,” Finn repeated.  “I was spoiled rotten.  Had to chop my own wood and everything.”

 

Luke laughed.  “And he never complained,” he said to Poe, who stood up to help Luke, displacing a displeased Zuri in the process.

 

“He loved every minute of it, right,” Poe winked over at Finn, who rolled his eyes.

 

“Just call me Paul Bunyan.”

 

*****

 

Bastian’s laughter rang through Finn’s cellphone and sounded like it was bouncing off the bathroom tiles.

 

“Knock it off,” Finn grumbled, climbing up onto his bathroom counter and sitting with his feet on the toilet’s tank.

 

“Oh my _God,”_ Bastian gasped between cackles.  “Oh my God!  You— _you_ —can’t catch a break!”

 

“I’m like Charlie Brown and the football over here,” Finn said, looking around at the two wet towels hung to dry on the rack on the back of the door and the freshly unpacked toothbrush presented to Poe about fifteen minutes ago.  Three toothbrushes where there had only ever been one before.  Why was that so weird?

 

Bastian’s laughter slowed down to deeply breathed giggles.  “Okay, okay, okay.  Okay.  So, positives--,”

 

“There’s really nothing positive,” Finn interrupted.

 

“You’ve got pillows that smell like Poe now,” Bastian offered.

 

“That’s not creepy at all,” Finn said, breaking into a smile.

 

“Sure, it’s creepy as hell—but it is a positive.”  Finn laughed and he could feel through the phone that his friend’s smile softened as he said, “And— _and_ you almost told him you liked to kiss him!”

 

“I was gonna go with ‘take him on a date’ actually,” Finn chuckled.  “I think he just feels bad for me now.”

 

“Pity date, you mean?”

 

“No, like adopt me as his own,” Finn frowned.

 

“Nah, I don’t see that.”  Then Bastian hesitated.  “How bad is your dad?”

 

“He’s—well,” Finn scratched his ear, thinking about how to describe Luke Skywalker without saying he was Luke Skywalker.  “He takes control of everything.”

 

“Yeah, I get that,” Bastian commented.  “So, what’s the plan?”

 

“Hide in the bathroom until Poe makes his escape and then throw Dad at the mercy of his sister.”

 

“Or you can make the best of this and spend a lazy Sunday morning with Poe,” his friend suggested.

 

“And my dad.”

 

“Yeah…maybe you can send him to the store and lock the door?”

 

“He has a key.”

 

“See, you think it’s a good idea to give your parents a key.  Safety or whatever.  Then they’re letting themselves in while you’re having sex on your kitchen table and--,”

 

“Ew, dude,” Finn grimaced.

 

“Yeah, that was my ma’s reaction too,” Bastian said, clearly smiling.  “It was not the best way to introduce Jamie.  God, he was mortified, begged to never see them again.”  There was a pause and then Bastian cleared his throat.  “Anyway.”

 

“Was Jamie…”

 

“Yeah,” Bastian replied.  “But we were talking about you and Poe’s blossoming romance, babe.”

 

“I’ll talk to him,” Finn said firmly.  Bastian sighed.

 

“I feel like I’ve scared ya into this, babe.”

 

“No, seriously, I want to.  At this point, he must be either the nicest guy in the world or interested because no one else would be listening to my dad ramble about silent films this early in the morning.  And like you said, he makes me smile and I don’t care that his kitchen is a wreck--,”

 

“And that’s a basis for an everlasting love if I ever heard it,” Bastian interrupted cheerfully.  “I’m gonna let ya get back to it, okay?  I somehow got wrangled into brunch with Iolo and I should shower.”

 

“Wait, really,” Finn asked, surprised.  “Like a date?”

 

“Don’t think so,” Bastian answered, voice muffled by rustling on the other end.  “Last night I wanted to walk back, clear my head.  Iolo lives in Dupont so he tagged along.  He said we should get coffee today and I said, ‘make it brunch’—like as a joke—and now I’ve got to get outta bed before noon on a Sunday, and if I wanted to do that I’d go to church.”

 

“Sounds kinda like a date,” Finn hinted, smile lifting his face.

 

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.  He’s never shown any interest in the three years I’ve known him.  Hell, he talked to me more last night than all those years combined.”

 

“Maybe he’s just intimidated by how awesome you are,” Finn said honestly.

 

Bastian laughed.  “Yeah, I can see that.  I’m the best.”

 

“You are.”

 

“Quit stalling, babe.  Say hi to Poe for me and then tell him my friend wants to kiss the bejesus out of him--,”

 

“Enjoy brunch,” Finn said quickly before hanging up on Bastian mid-giggle.  Finn tapped his fingers on the counter, wondering if there was any excuse he could come up with for staying in the bathroom a bit longer.  Deciding there wasn’t really (at least nothing that wasn’t disgusting), Finn slid off his perch, crossed to the bathroom door, and pulled it open to the scent of bacon and home fries.

 

“You were right about the hang-over food,” Poe called over his shoulder from his seat at the counter bar.  Finn meandered over, watching as his dad stirred eggs around in a skillet.

 

“It’s from all the boozing at diplomatic parties, right, Dad?”

 

“We didn’t call it ‘boozing,’ sunshine,” Luke censored lightly.

 

“ _Sunshine_ ,” Poe repeated with a smirk as Finn climbed onto the stool next to him.

 

“Not a word,” Finn shot back with a grimace.  “Question: does Iolo have a crush on Bastian?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Poe nodded, stirring his dark coffee idly.  “Huge.  But he’s never going to do anything about it.”  He brought his mug (white, all of Finn’s mugs were white from a matching set) to his lips.

 

“They’re going to brunch,” Finn said, jaw dropping as Poe inhaled too quick and started choking on his coffee.  “Jeez, it’s not that exciting,” Finn frowned, banging his flat palm against Poe’s back while Luke looked on concerned.

 

“Iolo,” Poe gasped out, Luke moving the mug out of his grasp.  “ _My Iolo_?”

 

“It’s not exactly a common name,” Finn mentioned.

 

“Although I knew a Finnish peacekeeper in Namibia named--,”

 

“That’s great, Dad,” Finn cut him off, shifting from smacking Poe’s back to rubbing slow circles.  “Maybe save it for later?”

 

“Sure,” Luke said slightly reluctantly, refocusing on Poe.  “Are you alright?”

 

“ _Iolo_ asked _Bastian_ out?  Seriously?”

 

“Not exactly.  Bastian doesn’t think it’s a date but I definitely saw Iolo checking him out last night.”

 

“Yeah, he’s been doing that for a while.  Ever since he caught Bastian with his shirt off in the break room,” Poe mumbled, rubbing a hand across his eyes.  “But I never thought he’d get the nerve.”

 

“In my experience, a nudge is often helpful in that kind of a situation,” Luke said, staring at Finn, who gulped and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 

“Or maybe he just decided life’s too short all by himself,” he stated, voice lilting upwards in nervousness.

 

“You’re weirdly hung-up on death, aren’t you,” Poe asked, glancing up.

 

“Are you,” Luke echoed, worried.

 

“Not like that, Dad.  I just—hold on,” Finn held up a finger and pulled his vibrating phone out of pocket.

 

_Calling:_

_That Guy_

 

“Uh, I’ve got to take this,” Finn grimaced, already turning back to the bathroom.

 

“You’re popular,” Poe commented amused.

 

“You can take it here,” Luke suggested in a way that made it an order, and not for the first time Finn wondered if his dad could read minds.  Compromising, Finn took the three steps to the living room and sat down on the couch he had remade after he’d been woken up by Luke with a list of ingredients Finn had to go get at eight in the morning.

 

“Hey,” Finn said as casually as he could after he brought the phone to his ear.

 

“You’re not alone,” Ban snapped irately.

 

“Right,” Finn swallowed, forcing himself not to turn back and glance at the others.  “What’s up?”

 

“Your exposé is going live Tuesday.”

 

“Fu—uh, fun,” Finn improvised, sitting on his free hand to stop from scratching his ear.  That was his ultimate tell and Luke would catch it in a split second.  “Thanks for the head’s up.”

 

“They’re holding it until they know Luke is back.  Once he goes live tomorrow at his meeting on the Hill, they’ll put you on the front page of the Style section,” Ben said briskly, the sound of typing in the background.

 

Finn nodded for Luke’s benefit.  “Well, it’s about time, right?”

 

“Luke’s watching you.”

 

“I know,” Finn said, forcing a smile to make his inflection change.

 

“Tell him the eggs are burning.”

 

“Dad, have you checked on the eggs,” Finn called over his shoulder.

 

“Damn it,” Luke hissed behind Finn, followed by the sound of pans banging.

 

“Sir, I can help,” Poe offered, and Finn sighed.

 

“Listen, I can shut this article down,” Ben said quickly.

 

“First amendment,” Finn whispered.

 

“What if I could do it without violating this guy’s Constitutional rights,” Ben asked mockingly.

 

“How?”

 

“Never mind that.  This is coming out.  Do you want it to be in a Style article written by a C-minus reporter with an obvious fixation on you or not?”

 

Finn’s mind was racing; it was too early for life-changing decisions.  “Do it,” he rasped.

 

“Got it,” Ben replied with more typing.

 

“What are you gonna do,” Finn asked quietly as he heard the shuffling behind him die down.

 

“Not telling you.  No,” Ben continued as Finn made a small whimper in the back of his throat, “you're a shit liar and you've gotta act surprised when I do this.”

 

“Oh,” Finn breathed, blinking fast as he tried to marry the image of his cousin giving a damn with the cousin who couldn’t be bothered to check if Finn had a pulse before walking away.

 

“Consider it payback,” Ben admitted reluctantly, and Finn seriously wondered if everyone in his family could read minds except him.  “That weirdly chiseled guy is coming over.  Play it cool.”

 

“How--,”

 

“Laptop camera.  You should put tape on that, moron,” and Ben hung up before Finn could get another word in.  Finn glanced over at his laptop innocently sitting on the side table and just caught the light next to the lens flick off.

 

“Hey,” Poe said softly but Finn still jumped a couple inches into the air, dropping his phone.  Poe bent down to retrieve it, sitting back on his heels as he crouched in front of Finn, scanning Finn’s face with warm brown eyes.  “The eggs are ruined.”

 

“I hate eggs,” Finn responded mindlessly.  “Dad makes them anyway.”

 

“Billions of people in the world eat eggs, Finn,” Luke called on his way to the bathroom, probably to wash his hands.  Finn needed to buy more hand soap.

 

“Your father is something else,” Poe laughed, still squatting in front of Finn.

 

“Do you ever get the feeling that you’re falling and you’re not sure if you want to hit the ground or not,” Finn asked suddenly and Poe’s eyebrows slowly made their way up his forehead.

 

“Is everything okay,” Poe asked, worried.

 

“I’ll let you know,” Finn shook his head, starting to push himself to his feet.  Poe’s hand shot out and grabbed Finn’s wrist gently.

 

“Everyone feels like that sometimes, okay?  Especially if your life is changing.  And I’ve had my fair share of changes, so I know,” Poe stated carefully, keeping his eyes on Finn’s.  “But I can tell you that nothing is as scary as your mind makes it.  So, fall or fly--you’ll be fine, got it?”

 

Finn’s shoulders sagged and his gaze dropped from Poe’s intense one to the feather-light grip around his wrist.  Cautiously Finn brought his free hand over and placed it over the back of Poe’s hand, just resting it there.  “They teach you that in relationship-expert class,” he asked, voice heavy even as he smiled.

 

Poe smiled back.  “Dunno, I missed this class.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“I didn’t even do the readings,” Poe said, and Finn thought he was joking even though Poe sounded a bit too serious.

 

“Well, I think you’ll be fine,” Finn teased truthfully.  Poe’s smile softened around the edges and he glanced down.

 

“We’ll be fine,” he agreed.

 

Luke cleared his throat and Finn sighed.  “You’ll be fine too, Dad.  Stop sulking in the doorway.”

 

“I don’t sulk,” Luke grumbled, heading back to the kitchen.  “You have dishes to clean, sunshine.”

 

“I should head home,” Poe mentioned, standing in sync with Finn.

 

“Or we could finish _the Maltese Falcon_ while Finn takes care of this,” Luke offered as he tossed a dishtowel at Finn, who snagged it out of the air with a huff.  Poe looked conflicted and Finn decided he must have missed something.

 

“Go ahead,” Finn shrugged, passing his dad as he went around to the sink.  “But start from the beginning.”

 

“We can do that,” Luke said in a leading manner and Finn frowned over at Poe, who was sucking on his bottom lip.

 

“I guess I could,” Poe drew out.  “But I do have to get back and grade papers.”

 

“Of course you do,” Luke agreed conciliatorily and Finn snorted.  Poe didn’t stand a chance against Luke, and it was almost sad.  Except it was kinda nice to see that Luke had that effect on other people too.  Idly, Finn wondered what he would have to go out to get because there wasn’t enough for dinner for three in his apartment.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for all the wonderful comments and kudos for the last chapter! The response to this story is absolutely mind-blowing and I'm so honored! Seriously, you are all fantastic!!  
> Hope you enjoyed and are ready for the wild finish :)


	7. Bonus: Brunch with Bastian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Surprise bonus chapter, y'all! Originally I wasn't planning on posting this (I had bits and pieces of it written just of my notes), but based on some of the comments on the last chapter I thought some people might enjoy a peek behind the curtain :)  
> NOTE: Finn and Poe do not appear in this chapter. We will return to the main event in the next and final chapter!

“Good morning!”

 

“Heyya,” Bastian smiled across the hostess stand at the cheery short brunette.  “Table for two?”

 

“Right this way,” the hostess said, taking two menus in her hand and leading Bastian back through the tables towards the wall of windows at the back of the bookstore café.  “How’s this?”

 

“Great, thanks so much,” Bastian nodded, wondering idly what the hostess would have done if he had said no.

 

“If you leave a name, I can bring your friend back when they get here,” the hostess (‘Marie’ according to her nametag) offered.

 

“Imagine a stereotypical Hufflepuff,” Bastian said seriously, taking a seat.  “Maybe an inch taller than me, strawberry blond, lots of freckles,” he described, waving vaguely around his face to show where the freckles were.

 

Marie blinked and then giggled.  “Hufflepuff.  Got it.”

 

“And don’t be sending any Gryffindors over,” Bastian dead-panned.

 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Marie teased back, leaving the menus on the edge of the table before heading back to the front.  Bastian smiled to himself as he pulled the top menu in front of him.  Marie was a good sport, he decided.  It takes a certain kind of person to work Sunday brunch service and appear genuinely happy.  Bastian had worked enough shitty shifts to know that was an art form.

 

Bastian was debating between a Cubano sandwich and a burger when his phone chimed twice.  Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and pulled out his cell, tracing out a letter J to unlock. 

 

_Micah:_

_Isaiah 40:31_

_Micah:_

_But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  Then will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint._

Bastian snorted, clicking the talk to text open and holding the speaker to his lips.  “Psalms 133:1.”  Then he checked that spell check hadn’t decided to change ‘psalms’ to ‘pastrami’ or something else stupid.  Satisfied, he clicked send just as he heard a voice to his right say,

 

“I heard this is where Hufflepuffs are sitting.”

 

“No, but I’ll let it slide this time,” Bastian replied, pushing the chair across from him out with his foot smoothly.  Iolo chuckled and Bastian looked up as he placed his phone to the side of his plate.  Looking over Iolo’s blue button-up and olive-green chinos, Bastian thought he could have done a bit better than his Fall Out Boy t-shirt and jeans.  Then he realized he wouldn’t have even considered that if Finn hadn’t mentioned the damn d-word and mentally shoved the thought away.

 

“Well, clearly you’re a Slytherin,” Iolo said as he took a seat.  Almost instantly he began to fidget with his fork.  Bastian clicked his tongue and pushed the second laminated menu towards the older man, who grabbed it like it was a lifeline.

 

“What gave it away,” Bastian asked smugly.

 

“Besides the smirk?  No idea,” the older man replied, almost breaking a smile but it was more of a twitch.

 

Figuring Iolo was probably regretting ever asking him to brunch, Bastian decided to take over.  “Have you been here before?”

 

“No.  I mean—I’ve been to the bookstore but not…to eat,” Iolo finished somewhat lamely.

 

Bastian shook his head in disappointment.  “You’ve been missing out.  The food is amazing.  Also they do this espresso soda—it tastes like candy.  I’m pretty sure Finn’s addicted to it.”

 

“You, uh, bring Finn here a lot,” Iolo asked, staring down at the menu in front of him.

 

Bastian knew a leading question when he heard one but he figured Iolo should have to work for it.  “I guess.  Him and Rey.  If they stay over at mine we usually come over here the next day.”

 

“You three are really close.”

 

Arching an eyebrow, Bastian crossed his arms.  “We’re friends, not a ménage a trois, dude.”

 

Iolo’s eyes snapped up and widened.  “Shit, I didn’t—I’m sorry, I just--,”

 

“Which one,” Bastian asked resigned, uncrossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table.

 

“What,” Iolo blinked.

 

“Which one are you interested in?  ‘Cause I’ll tell you right now Rey’s not into romantic relationships, and if you’re about to challenge Poe for Finn you’re suicidal.”

 

Iolo frowned.  “Good to know, but.  Why are those the only options?”

 

“Because they’re the only people you’d scope out through me,” Bastian shrugged.

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true,” Iolo said, a small smile appearing on his face, and it was Bastian’s turn to be confused.

 

“Who else do you know,” he asked, running through the sadly short list of friends from college he was still in contact with.  Half of them were engaged to the other half at this point, weren’t they?

 

Iolo smirked and before Bastian could get to the bottom of it, a waiter appeared at their table with a tired smile and a notepad.  “Good morning.  My name is Ricky.  Can I get you started with something to drink?”

 

“Two espresso sodas,” Iolo answered promptly, glancing over at Bastian.  “Right?”

 

“Yeah,” Bastian agreed, slightly numb with the shock of someone ordering for him.  That hadn’t happened in _years_.  Four years.

 

“Great.  I’ll be right back with those,” Ricky nodded and walked off.

 

“I thought maybe we could—hang out,” Iolo said hesitantly, folding his hands over his menu like he was preparing for something.

 

“Why,” Bastian asked befuddled, leaning back in his seat slightly.

 

“Well,” Iolo drew out, eyes conveniently focused on Bastian’s left clavicle, “because you’re cute and funny and good at your job.  Finn’s pretty protective of you, so that’s gotta be something--,”

 

“Wait, what was that,” Bastian cut in, tilting his head to the side.

 

“—and I figured I didn’t exactly have anything to _lose_ ,” Iolo finished, mostly to himself.

 

But Bastian heard.  “Jeez, thanks,” he rolled his eyes.  Iolo grimaced in apology and Bastian ran his tongue across the back of his teeth, thinking.  Three years working at the same station as the guy across the table from him and what did Bastian know about him?  Iolo was basically the star of the station and Lando’s right hand man.  Iolo never worked night shifts, and—since those were Bastian’s preferred slots—they hardly ever interacted outside of the ‘bonding nights.’  Iolo always carried a notebook with him, and Bastian had caught him scribbling away in it every time he’d seen him.  Except last night.  And no notebook in sight today.  Interesting…  “Okay, sure.”

 

“Really?  ‘Cause I feel like I sounded like a stalker right then,” Iolo admitted with a wince.

 

“I mean, it was a bit insulting but I’m pretty sure you called me cute in there somewhere so that’s a point in your favor.”

 

“Okay, so this is…happening?”

 

Bastian snorted.  “Hold your horses, Romeo.  Don’t bowl me over with the romantic declarations.”

 

“Shut up,” Iolo smiled and it looked genuine.  “I meant, are you alright with—shit, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say here.”

 

“I think the term you’re looking for is ‘pre-date,’” Bastian drawled, biting the inside of his lip to keep from smirking.

 

“God, I didn’t even know that was a thing,” Iolo shook his head.  He looked actually confused and Bastian took pity on him.

 

“It’s not a thing, dude.  I just made it up.  First off, you’re gonna have to catch on that more than half the stuff I say is bullshit.”

 

“Yeah?  How will I know the difference,” Iolo asked, tone lightening slightly and Bastian could’ve hugged him for finally relaxing.

 

“Easy.  If it sounds ridiculous, then I’m telling the truth,” Bastian winked and Iolo rolled his eyes.

 

“Here are your drinks,” Ricky reappeared and placed two tall, skinny glasses on the table with straws.  “Are you ready to order?”

 

Iolo gestured for Bastian to go ahead and Bastian said, “I’ll have the Cubano, thanks.”

 

“And the frittata for me,” Iolo added, taking Bastian’s menu and handing it up to Ricky with his own before Bastian knew what was happening.

 

“Sounds good.  That’ll be out shortly,” Ricky muttered as he scribbled the orders down.

 

“Thank you,” Bastian projected as Ricky smiled quickly before heading back towards the kitchen.  “Right, you wanna start the interrogation,” he asked Iolo, before he twitched at his cell signaled another text.  “Sorry, I’ll put this on silent,” Bastian mumbled, opening the text quickly.

 

_Micah:_

_Good choice.  
_

 

Typing quickly, Bastian sent:

 

_Thanks.  Say hi to the folks for me._

“Sorry about that.  My brother has this Sunday ritual,” Bastian explained, clicking his volume down before shoving his phone back into his pocket.

 

“You’ve got a brother?”

 

“Micah.  Reverend Micah Amos Johnson the Third, if you want to get specific.”

 

“Shit,” Iolo whistled lowly.

 

“I know.  Try living up to that,” Bastian laughed.  “The worst thing is he’s the nicest guy.  Sends me Bible quotes, but good ones.  None of that Leviticus stuff.”

 

“How old is he?”

 

“Thirty-five.  Nine years’ difference.  As you can imagine, I was a bit of an accident,” Bastian joked, adding some spirit fingers in for the full effect.  Iolo laughed, and this time it sounded like he meant it so Bastian counted that as a win.  “Well, that’s my sibling covered.  What about you?”

 

“Only child,” Iolo said.  “Lame, I know.”

 

“I don’t think you had much control over that,” Bastian teased.  “Are you from here originally?”

 

“Nah, Delaware.”

 

“I’ve never met anyone from Delaware before,” Bastian said, impressed.  “I thought they set the tolls so high to keep people from leaving.”

 

“No, it’s so we don’t have to pay sales’ taxes.  Which, incidentally, is why most people don’t leave Delaware,” Iolo said with finger guns and Bastian grinned.

 

“I knew there had to be something.”

 

“My turn,” Iolo said, rubbing a hand over his clean-shaven chin in a show of thinking and Bastian took a long sip of his soda, waiting.  Damn, this was a good soda.  “Last relationship.”

 

White noise filled Bastian’s mind as he swallowed and set his glass back on the table.  “I’m not sure you wanna get into that,” he said restrained.

 

“Oh.  Did it—did it end badly,” Iolo asked softly, kindly.

 

“He died.  His name was Jamie,” Bastian replied, voice steady.  “And if I had opened with that we could’ve saved Ricky the trouble of cancelling our order,” he continued brightly, already turning to see if he could catch the waiter’s eye.

 

“It’s nice that you remember his name,” Iolo mentioned out of nowhere and Bastian twisted back, confused.

 

“What are you talking about?”  Of course he remembered Jamie’s name; did Iolo think he had amnesia or something?

 

“The waiter.  Most people don’t pay attention,” Iolo elaborated, smiling.  “And I don’t think we need to cancel our orders.”

 

Bastian’s eyes narrowed.  “Really?  Cause that’s usually the date killer…”

 

“Well, good thing we’re only on a pre-date, right?”  Iolo crossed his arms and leaned his elbows on the table, still smiling, while Bastian blinked confused.  “So tell me about him.” 

 

“Like what,” Bastian asked, feeling completely out of his depth.  Who the hell asks about the dead ex on a date?  Or a pre-date or whatever the hell this was.

 

“I don’t know.  Was he…nice?”  As soon as he said that Iolo looked like he regretted it.  “Fuck, sorry.  Ask a stupid question--,”

 

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

“No,” Bastian smiled, “he wasn’t nice.”

 

“Oh,” Iolo frowned, clearly not prepared for that answer.  “I’m sorry?”

 

“Actually, he could be a real jerk when he wanted to be,” Bastian continued, stirring his straw around in his soda.  “He used to call me ‘princess’ and he knew I hated it.  He only did it to piss me off—to start a fight.”

 

“Just to push your buttons,” Iolo offered.

 

“Exactly.  I remember this one time,” Bastian said, settling back into his seat, still smiling softly, “last semester of senior year.  We’d just gotten back from winter break, right?  And a bunch of my friends decided to throw me a belated birthday party.  Basically it turned into a complete frat party; I’m talking keg stands, beer pong, the whole nine yards.  I thought it was the best thing, but it wasn’t Jamie’s scene.  He was a street festival, art lecture, mural unveiling kind of guy.  And a huge snob.  He wouldn’t drink Bud Lite if there was a gun to his head.  So he was over it before we even got there and then it just got worse.”  Iolo seemed captivated and Bastian kinda enjoyed it.  “It’s not even midnight.  I’m playing the best game of beer pong of my life, and Jamie walks over and announces we’re going home.  And I was used to that—we’d been together for two years by then so I knew the drill.  I kinda blow him off, tell him we’ll go after I finish the game.  But he lays down the law, dude.”

 

“What did he do,” Iolo asked when Bastian paused to take another sip of soda.

 

“He told me I was either coming home now or I wasn’t coming home at all,” Bastian replied fondly.

 

“So you just left?”

 

“Nah, I told him to leave my stuff on the doormat.  And he sure as hell did!”

 

“Jesus,” Iolo half-breathed, half-laughed.

 

“Oh yeah.  It was three days before we cracked.  I dragged myself back to our apartment, ready to grovel a bit.  I’m at the door, about to knock, when I get the text.  It just says, ‘sorry I was a dick.’  And I just walk in and say, ‘sorry I was a jerk.’  Everything goes back to normal.”

 

“Jesus,” Iolo repeated.

 

“I guess what I’m saying is…it wasn’t perfect.  He wasn’t the perfect guy and we didn’t have the perfect relationship.  I don’t have any rosy glasses about it.  I’m a different person now.  I think I want something different, ya know?”

 

“I know exactly what you mean,” Iolo said slowly, staring like he just noticed Bastian was there.

 

Bastian cleared his throat.  “Right, well, now that you’re seriously regretting getting yourself into this godawful brunch, tell me about your dead ex.”

 

“I don’t have one and I don’t regret anything about this,” Iolo responded firmly, knocking his foot against Bastian’s.

 

“Okay,” Bastian allowed even though he wasn’t convinced.  “Last relationship?”

 

“Ended almost a year ago,” Iolo answered easily.  “She moved to California and we grew apart.  Nothing crazy.”

 

“I dunno, I think I saw that rom com,” Bastian mused.  “I think it ends with you meeting up with her again in five years and discovering you have a son.”

 

Iolo snorted and then covered his face with his hands.  “God forbid.”

 

“No no, he’s adorable.  Has your freckles and her eyes.  You teach him how to ride a bike, and he calls you by your first name--,”

 

“You have some imagination,” Iolo laughed, shaking his head.

 

Bingo.  “Something tells me you can give me a run for my money on that.  Where’s your notebook?”

 

Iolo frowned.  “Oh.  That.”

 

“Yeah, how ‘bout it?”

 

“I write,” Iolo admitted blandly.  Bastian waited, but Iolo started fidgeting with his fork and stayed silent.

 

“O-kay.  What are we talking about here—Hemingway or Mark Twain or…”  Bastian trailed off, wondering why his mind suddenly went blank on authors.  Damn it, he read books before!

 

“More like O. Henry, but with less sympathetic protagonists,” Iolo mumbled, rocking the fork back and forth by its tongs.

 

“Sounds right up my alley,” Bastian said gamely, making a mental note to Google this O. Henry person when he got home.  “Do you write for yourself or have you been published?”

 

“Couple of my short stories have made it to print,” Iolo admitted, as if he was confessing to a crime.  “Just in magazines, nothing special.”

 

“See, that’s awesome but you make it sound like it’s not,” Bastian pointed out.

 

“I’m just…not feeling it right now.”

 

“You have writer’s block and it’s driving you crazy, right?”

 

Iolo’s head snapped up and he pressed too hard on the fork, sending it flying over his shoulder, miraculously missing the woman seated at the table behind him.  “How the fuck do you know that?”

 

“I know artistic angst when I see it,” Bastian shrugged.  It was always artists; how did he always attract the artistic ones?  “Tell me about it.”

 

“Nah, it’s nothing--,”

 

“Trust me on this one.”

 

Iolo swallowed, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip.  “This story—I hate the whole thing.”

 

Bastian made a sound like a rejection buzzer, causing Iolo and a few other brunch-faring folks in the café to jump.  “Bullshit.  If you hated the whole thing you would’ve scrapped it.  Why haven’t you scrapped it by now?”

 

As if in a trance, Iolo said slowly, “There’s a moment—just a sentence, really, but—it’s right.”

 

“How did they get there?”  Iolo hummed confused and Bastian added, “How did the character get to that moment?”  Wasn’t this a blast from the past…  How many times had he sat on the drop cloth-covered floor while Jamie paced in front of his latest canvas or storyboard and tried to talk him out of burning the whole thing?

 

“His—his world is falling apart,” Iolo said, watching Bastian curiously.

 

“And in that moment, is it getting better or worse?”

 

“It’s like a lighter in the dark.”

 

“So that’s your ending.  What you’re stuck on is how he gets from his world falling apart to the flicker of hope.  Sounds like you need to work on the mid—what are you doing?!”

 

Iolo was out of his seat and around to Bastian before Bastian even finished his sentence.  Iolo’s hands came around the base of Bastian’s head, thumbs resting on the younger man’s cheeks while his fingers folded together across the back of Bastian’s skull.  “You are a fucking genius.”

 

“Okay,” Bastian managed, raising an eyebrow.  He was a pretty touchy-feely guy, but even he thought face-grabbing was a bit much for a pre-date/first date/whatever the fuck this was.

 

“I was thinking about it all wrong,” Iolo whispered, like it was a secret.  “I was trying to make the moment the climax but that forced the resolution…”

 

“Don’t tell me, go write it down,” Bastian said, squeezing one of Iolo’s wrists before gently pulling his face free.

 

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Iolo replied, still standing over Bastian and gazing at him like he was trying to memorize Bastian’s face.

 

“Then we’ll get it to go and you can get back to your notebook,” Bastian said easily, looking around Iolo for Ricky.

 

“It can wait,” Iolo shrugged, like it was nothing as he returned to his seat.

 

“Seriously, it’s fine.  I get it.”

 

“It’s not fine for me.  I’m enjoying my first ever pre-date,” Iolo grinned.  Bastian must have looked as shocked as he felt because Iolo asked, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Bastian said quickly.  “I’m just not used to winning out over art stuff.”

 

“Jamie,” Iolo asked sympathetically.

 

“He would have been out the door five minutes ago,” Bastian answered truthfully.

 

“Huh.  I guess you were right.”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, you said he was kind of a jerk,” Iolo said with a small smile.

 

Bastian blinked and then threw back his head and laughed—long and loud and hard.  He laughed through their meals being delivered.  He laughed through Iolo ordering him another soda.  He was just catching his breath as Iolo tapped his ankle again and this time Bastian linked their feet neatly.  “I really needed that.”

 

“Yeah.  Me too,” Iolo winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always, you are all fantastic readers and I'm in complete awe by the response to this story. Thank you thank you for all the wonderful kudos and comments on the last chapter!
> 
> Up next: what is Ben up to and will Finn and Poe finally get it together? :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready to find out how this wild ride ends? :D

As far as morning shows go, Finn felt this was one of the better ones.  The first week had been rocky, trying to find where he fit in the finely tuned machine that was Jess-Iolo-Karé, but he felt like he was starting Week Two well.  Mostly, he just had to disagree with Jess on everything and let Iolo tease him about being naïve and laugh at the random one-liners Karé tossed in from the sound booth.  Iolo had told him to start taking more of a role with callers, and if there was one thing about being on the radio that Finn loved, it was talking to callers.  So far this was one of the better Mondays Finn had had—so much so he had mostly forgotten that Ben had something in the works.  Until 9:35 that is. 

 

“Snoring is the ultimate deal breaker,” Jess declared, adjusting her mic as she leaned back in her swivel chair and pulled her mug of coffee towards her.  “I will roll a guy out of the bed if he snores.”

 

“But he can’t control it,” Finn defended, mainly for argument’s sake.  He agreed that snoring was annoying, but that wouldn’t make for a good segment.  “You’re telling me that if this guy was perfect—smart, funny, cooks—but he snores, you’d dump him?”

 

“Hell yeah!  See ya never,” Jess laughed before taking a gulp of coffee.

 

“Iolo, help me out here,” Finn groused overdramatically, shooting a look at the host.  Iolo seemed to be distracted, squinting into the sound booth where Karé was fielding calls rapidly.  “Iolo, come on,” Finn prompted.  

 

“Are we talking chainsaw snoring or purr snoring,” Iolo asked, smiling to lift his voice while he signaled to Karé for an explanation.

 

“We’re talking about the principle of the thing,” Finn snapped good naturedly as Karé just shook her head and gave up on the brightly lit soundboard.  “It’s not someone’s fault if they snore!”

 

“I’m not saying it’s his fault, I’m just saying I won’t stand for it,” Jess shrugged.  Finn opened his mouth to retort but Karé was making frantic ‘cut’ signals across her throat and Iolo jumped in.

 

“Well, we’re going to pause the deal breaker talk while we take a quick commercial break.  Weather and traffic when we return.  This is Iolo Arana, and you’re listening to _Morning Crew_ on DC105.”

 

They were clicked off-air and instantly Karé said, voice heavy, “We got a situation.”

 

“Breaking news,” Jess asked, sitting up while Iolo pulled his open laptop closer and started typing.  “Please God, don’t let it be another shooting.”

 

“Holy shit,” Iolo breathed, his eyes running across his computer screen rapidly.  “What the _fuck_?”  Iolo shot Finn a look that Finn didn’t understand.

 

“Wait—is it actually a shooting,” Jess hissed, getting to her feet and coming around to look over Iolo’s shoulder.  “Why is—is that--,”

 

“Karé, take us off the air,” Iolo ordered, slamming his laptop shut and nearly catching Jess’s fingers as she reached for his keyboard.

 

“We’re off for another two minutes,” Karé said, staring at Finn with wide eyes.  Finn frowned and blinked back at her.

 

“No, take us off for the rest of the show,” Iolo retorted, standing up and tucking his laptop under his arm.  He grabbed Finn’s arm and pulled him to his feet.  “Come on, Finn.”

 

“What’s going on,” Finn asked, looking around at the others who were watching him with expressions of confusion and…concern?  He started to reach for his cellphone lying silent on the table, but Iolo snatched it from him and shoved it into his own pants’ pocket.

 

“Lo, I can’t cancel the show,” Karé pointed out.

 

“I can,” Iolo snapped, wrapping an arm around Finn’s shoulders.  “Lando’s not here, so I’m in charge.”  Finn wondered if he knew that as Iolo turned him towards the door.  “Do a repeat of some of Bastian’s sets from last night.  Keep up the traffic updates, but don’t take any calls.”

 

“How do we explain cutting off the show,” Jess called as Iolo pulled Finn out of the booth.

 

“Technical difficulties,” Iolo called over his shoulder, steering Finn towards the break room.

 

“Iolo, what’s happening,” Finn asked again as Iolo closed the door behind them.

 

“You should sit down,” Iolo told him firmly.  Finn rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

 

“Cut it out, man, just tell me.”

 

“You’ve been hacked.”

 

Finn froze for a moment.  “No, seriously, what actually happened?”

 

“You’ve been hacked.  Photos, records, personal information, all of it,” Iolo said, voice steady, leaning back against the door.  “Including what I assume is your actual last name.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Finn breathed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes.  “ _Fuck fuck fuck_.”

 

“We’ll take care of it, Finn.  We’ll—we’ll run interference here, issue a statement about respecting your privacy...we can handle this.”  Two arms wrapped around his shoulders and Finn was pulled against a solid chest.  “It’s going to be okay.”

 

“How much,” Finn whispered.

 

“Just from what I skimmed,” Iolo sighed against Finn’s head, “I know you broke your leg when you were eleven, you sent a selfie with your cat to Rey recently, and you signed a contract with Lando that you’d use a pseudonym.”

 

“ _Oh my God_ ,” Finn choked, hugging Iolo back because he needed to do something.  He was practically vibrating out of his skin and then he realized what Iolo had said.  “Wait—broken leg?”

 

Iolo hummed, stroking Finn’s shoulder soothingly with the back of his fingers.  “Yeah, apparently there were some doctor records in the leak.  It’s sick.  How twisted do you have to be to do this to someone?”

 

“I’m gonna kill him,” Finn hissed, pushing himself free from the hold.  He turned and kicked out at a chair that had never done anything to him.

 

“Finn--,”

 

“Give me my phone,” Finn snapped, holding out his hand to Iolo.

 

“Finn, I know you’re angry but you need to take some deep breaths,” Iolo commanded.

 

“There are no records of me breaking my leg,” Finn growled through clenched teeth, “because I wasn’t taken to a doctor.  There’s only one person who could have made that and I’m gonna _kill him_.”

 

Iolo’s eyes narrowed.  “What the hell is going on,” he asked lowly as he took Finn’s cell out and held it out.  As soon as it hit Finn’s palm the screen lit up, revealing an incoming call from a blocked number.  Finn accepted it.

 

“What the fuck did you do,” he shouted into his phone’s microphone.

 

“I took care of it.”

 

“This isn’t ‘taking care of it,’” Finn said shrilly.  “This is worse!”

 

“This is controlled chaos,” Ben replied, annoyingly unfazed.  “You’re pacing like a caged animal, you freak.”

 

Finn spun around, locating the security camera in the far corner above the vending machine.  “Listen, you sick motherfucker,” Finn bit out, marching over and glaring up at the camera, “you _hacked me_.  You stole _everything_ from me.”

 

“Finn, you’re yelling at the wall,” Iolo murmured as if he was talking to a frightened woodland creature.  “Why don’t you sit down?”

 

“No, the camera,” Finn shot over his shoulder, jerking head towards the object in question.  “He’s watching me.”

 

“You sound like a basket case,” Ben pointed out, clearly smirking.

 

Finn took a deep breath.  “My cousin is a hacker.  The Ukrainian leaks?  That was him.  The KGB files?  The snap trial of the Chinese premier?  All him.  And now he’s lost his mind and leaked my information and _right_ now he’s hacked the station’s security system and he’s watching us through the camera.”

 

“I do you a favor and this is how you repay me,” Ben grumbled.

 

“ _A favor_ ,” Finn cried incredulously into his phone.

 

“Wait—your cousin is Kylo Ren,” Iolo asked.

 

“That doesn’t leave this room or else his information is next,” Ben threatened.

 

“Yeah, it’s kind of a secret,” Finn told Iolo slightly hysterically.  Iolo nodded, dazed.  “And _you_ ,” Finn continued, turning back to the camera.  “You just ruined my life so don’t you dare--,”

 

“Shut up, you whiny little shit,” Ben snapped.  Finn’s jaw shut with a click and he glared up at the camera.  “I didn’t release your credit card info or your bank account.  I leaked enough to get everyone’s attention, but nothing sensitive.  So you can thank me any time.”

 

“You leaked my contract,” Finn countered sharply.

 

“That was the whole _point_ ,” Ben stated, sounding completely exasperated.  “The contract is the whole fucking point of the leak.  How the fuck did you get straight A’s?”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t take the Classified Leaks 101 class!”

 

“The contract shows that the station forced you to change your name,” Ben said slowly.  “As opposed to that stupid article that was going to say you changed your name cause you’re ashamed.”

 

“Fuck, the article,” Finn groaned.

 

“The article is now pointless because I just leaked enough information to contradict it.  I leaked primary sources—that article is dead on the cutting room floor.”

 

Finn paused, blinking up at the lens.  “Wait—so—so you leaked the contract to make me look innocent and then you leaked the other stuff to hide it?”

 

“I leaked the other stuff because I have a reputation to uphold.  I’m already demeaning myself by getting involved in minor local celebrities,” Ben scoffed.  “We done?”

 

“Wait—did you release my texts,” Finn gulped, realizing just how often Rey and Bastian had texted him—goading him about Poe.

 

Benn snorted.  “I edited.  God knows our family has enough trouble in the romance department.”

 

“Thank God,” Finn breathed.

 

“And,” Ben asked pointedly.

 

“Thank you,” Finn muttered.

 

“We’re even.”

 

“We are,” Finn agreed.

 

“You’ve got incoming,” Ben said before ending the call.  Finn turned to look at the door in apprehension and Iolo followed his gaze.

 

“Finn, are you okay,” Bastian asked, rushing into the break room, flinging the door open and then closed behind him.  Finn looked over the oversized Henley and long basketball shorts and flipflops, realizing his friend must have come straight from bed.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Finn winced, shoving his phone into his pocket and holding his hands up, fingers spread.  “I should’ve told you but I was scared you’d be mad.”

 

“What,” Bastian shook his head, rubbing a fist against his eye, drooping sleeve falling to his elbow as he did so.  “Should’ve told me what?”

 

“The—the whole Skywalker thing,” Finn stammered. 

 

“You did tell me,” Bastian shrugged.  “But why the hell are a bunch of our texts on the internet?  My phone’s going crazy.”

 

“I never told anyone,” Finn countered.

 

“You told me months ago over cookie dough ice cream and the _Princess Bride_ ,” Bastian yawned.  Finn’s jaw dropped and Bastian smiled softly.  “I told you to cut back on the wine, babe.  You drank, like, a whole bottle by yourself.”

 

“I don’t remember that,” Finn mumbled.

 

“Yeah, you do.  I thought I’d have to take you to the hospital for alcohol poisoning?  We were watching the movie and I go ‘where’s Buttercup’s parents’ and you go ‘maybe they left her because they had more important stuff to do’ and I said ‘sounds like something personal’ and then you said--,”

 

“That my dad’s Luke Skywalker,” Finn finished, hiding his face in his hands.  “That’s so embarrassing.”

 

“It’s whatever.  I didn’t care.  I don’t care,” Bastian corrected and Finn felt a warm arm around his waist.  “I’m slightly concerned about why someone felt the need to leak all your info to the internet.  Your report cards have been uploaded, for God’s sake.”

 

“It was strategic,” Finn huffed, dropping his hands.  “It’s gonna be a long day.”

 

“Well, that’s cryptic and weird,” Bastian smiled as he went to flop down on the small plaid sofa in against the far wall of the room.  Iolo had set up at the round table beside it, typing rapidly on his laptop with his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear.  As Bastian leaned back, Iolo shot him a quick smile and Finn wasn’t too distracted to notice that Bastian returned it.  “This the control room?”

 

“Apparently,” Iolo replied.  “Lando is on his way.  Gonna have to renegotiate your contract, Finn.  And this time I’m helping you with it.”

 

“Why,” Finn asked, slumping next to Bastian, who nudged him with his knee.

 

“Because you should be getting at least 25% more for the amount of work you do here.  Plus, that name clause was bullshit—the only way out of it was for you to be exposed by a third party, and that’s fucked up.”

 

“Like for someone to leak the contract,” Bastian asked, catching on a bit too quick for Finn’s comfort.

 

“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” Finn defended quickly.

 

“We’ll fill you in later,” Iolo told Bastian, pausing his typing to reach out and squeeze Bastian’s shoulder.

 

“No worries.  I’m pretty good at working on a need to know basis,” Bastian shrugged, eyes sliding closed as he tilted his head back.  Iolo’s eyes scanned the arch of Bastian’s neck before he refocused on his computer.

 

“So,” Finn started, swinging his feet up into Bastian’s lap, “how was brunch?”

 

Bastian hummed.  “Good.  I saved his writing career, he called Jamie a jerk--,”

 

“Okay, when you say it like that I sound like an asshole,” Iolo laughed.  “No, not you,” he added into his phone.  “Yeah, I’m listening.  I’ve got the statement drafted.  I’m emailing it to you now.”

 

“But was it good,” Finn whispered to Bastian, poking him in the ribs.

 

“Yeah, babe, all good.”

 

“Was it a date,” Finn prodded gleefully.

 

“Pre-date,” Iolo and Bastian answered in unison and then Iolo added, “No, Lando, I was talking to Finn… What?... Jesus, okay.  We’ll meet in your office when you get in.”

 

“What’s the word, mission control,” Bastian asked before yawning again.

 

“Did you work last night,” Finn frowned.

 

“Left the studio like, four hours ago,” Bastian nodded.  Then he cracked one eye open and told Finn, “It’s fine, babe.  Nowhere else I’d rather be right now, okay?”

 

“You might change your mind in a second,” Iolo hinted, now texting on his phone.  “Lando says Luke Skywalker, Senator Leia Organa, and Han Solo are on their way.  Should be here any minute now.”

 

“All of them,” Finn groaned.

 

“Fun,” Bastian smiled, like disaster wasn’t at the door.  “Party in the break room.”

 

“Do you want some coffee,” Iolo offered.

 

“Not really, but I probably need some,” Bastian responded, starting to push himself to his feet.

 

“I’ve got it,” Iolo said quickly, waving for Bastian to stay seated.  “Milk and sugar?”

 

“Just throw in some of that French vanilla creamer, thanks,” Bastian replied, settling back into the cushions, sending a searching look Iolo’s way.  Finn was grinning widely when Bastian glanced back at him and Bastian rolled his eyes.  “Alright, enough of that.  Have you talked to Poe since this went down?”

 

“Shit,” Finn hissed, scrambling to get his phone out.

 

“He’s in class,” Iolo called from the Keurig machine.  “He has a nine AM.  When he got the news alerts he handed out a pop quiz and texted me.  I told him you’re hanging in there and will call him when things settle down.”

 

“Thank you,” Finn said sincerely, noticing he had three missed texts from Poe and two missed calls and four missed texts from Rey.  “Bastian, did I get drunk and tell Rey about my dad?”

 

“Not that I know of,” Bastian smirked.  “You’re screwed.”

 

“You don’t even know,” Finn mumbled as he heard familiar voices rumbling down the hallway.  Finn wasn’t ashamed he briefly considered hiding behind the sofa as the voices grew louder and more distinct, until a silhouette appeared in the fogged glass window in the door.  “Brace yourself,” Finn whispered and Bastian linked their fingers together supportively.

 

“And what _exactly_ do you have to say for yourself,” Han snapped, barging into the break room first, although Leia and Luke were right on his heels, clearly fuming.  “ ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’  That’s all you had to do!”

 

“Good morning,” Iolo chimed, walking with authority over to the couch, handing off a mug of coffee to Bastian before turning to the angrier occupants of the room.  “I’m Iolo Arana, and I’m handling the situation while Lando is away.”

 

The bemused looks his dad and aunt sent Iolo almost made Finn laugh if his heart wasn’t in his throat.  “Thanks, Iolo, but I think I’ll take it from here,” Finn said regretfully, getting to his feet.

 

“Did you know,” Luke asked, voice low like Finn rarely heard it.

 

“I knew he was going to do something,” Finn answered honestly and Luke looked away, hands clenching at his hair.  The suit Luke had put on just a couple hours ago was already wrinkled, tie loosened, and Finn felt the familiar knot of guilt in his stomach.  “I’m sorry but it was the only way--,”

 

“It’s never ‘the only way,’” Leia snapped, hands on hips.  “Haven’t we taught you _anything_?”

 

“No, come on,” Finn plead, stepping forward.  “I know you’re mad now but--,”

 

“We don’t keep secrets,” Luke interrupted, still not looking at his son.  “This family doesn’t keep secrets.”

 

That surprised an authentic laugh out of Finn, which was met with glares from his family.  “Well, you don’t have to lie,” Finn said, raising an eyebrow.  “All we do is keep secrets from each other.  That’s how our family works.”

 

“Finn,” Han started but Finn shook his head.

 

“You most of all,” Finn threw up his hands.  “Or did you ever tell them about Cuba, 1961?”

 

Han’s mouth snapped shut and Leia rounded on him, demanding, “And what were you doing in Cuba in 1961?”

 

“Nothing,” Han grumbled, glaring at his nephew.

 

“It’s alright because you don’t know what Leia was up to in Bangladesh in 1971,” Finn shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as Luke grabbed his sister’s arm.

 

“You swore you weren’t even in southeast Asia,” Luke hissed at her.

 

“And you swore you weren’t in Nigeria in 1991,” Leia shot back pointedly.

 

“So I think it’s fair to say we don’t exactly tell each other everything,” Finn cut in, tilting his head.  “And we can’t change it now.  If you want to yell at me, fine; it won’t do any good and we’ll be wasting time, but I’ll take it.”  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he only took it out for dramatic effect while his words sunk in.

 

_That Guy_

_Nice._

 

“And Ben says hi.  Wave for the camera,” Finn added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

 

Leia rounded on the security camera and shouted, “Don’t splice into Lando’s security and don’t hack your cousin’s hard drive!”

 

_That Guy_

_Fuck off, mother_

 

“He says ‘whatever,’” Finn informed before pushing the phone back into his pocket.  “He only did it to help out.  He was trying to kill that article.”

 

“What article,” Luke asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“The one that’ll never see the light of day now,” Finn said satisfied.

 

“I gotta say,” came Bastian’s voice behind Finn, “that was vicious.  Airing dirty laundry like it was your job, babe.”

 

Finn grimaced, turning back to where Bastian was fully lounging on the sofa now with Iolo perched on the couch arm by his head.  “Honestly, I kinda forgot you were here.”

 

“Me too,” Bastian nodded seriously.  “Like an out of body experience.  Felt like I was in a live-action episode of _Scandal_.”

 

“I think you should get some sleep,” Iolo told Bastian.

 

“Why, am I starting to make sense?”

 

“Let’s get you an Uber,” Iolo said, standing and holding out a hand to help Bastian up, who took it and swung his feet onto the ground with a grunt.

 

“And who are you,” Luke asked, voice kinder than Finn had heard since this whole mess started.

 

Bastian blinked.  “He’s Iolo.  He tried to introduce himself earlier.”

 

“He meant you,” Finn smiled.

 

“I am literally the least important person in this room,” Bastian stated.

 

“No, you’re not,” Finn rolled his eyes.

 

“Look at me,” Bastian waved a hand lazily at his attire, leaning against Iolo’s shoulder like it was the only thing keeping him on his feet.  “Do I look like I have illusions of grandeur, babe?”

 

“I’m Luke,” Finn’s father said, stepping forward with his hand out.

 

“Bastian,” he said, taking Luke’s hand and shaking it.  “Finn’s friend.”

 

“Best friend,” Finn corrected.

 

“I’ve just been promoted,” Bastian joked, releasing Luke’s hand.  “I’ve also been awake for over twenty-four hours and it’s starting to show.”

 

“Rest well,” Luke grinned.  Nodding slowly, Bastian let Iolo push him gently towards the door.

 

“Hold on,” Finn said, catching Bastian’s arm and pulling him into a tight hug.  “Thank you.”

 

“I sat on the couch,” Bastian mumbled into Finn’s hair.

 

“You came,” Finn pointed out.

 

“I’ll always come out for ya,” Bastian replied and Finn sniffed.  “Alright, I’m gonna leave the machinations to the rest of you,” he announced, pulling away.  “When I wake up, I expect world peace and food surpluses in Darfur.”

 

“Tall orders,” Luke joked, watching as Iolo guided Bastian away from running into the doorframe.  “I think I like him,” he mentioned once the pair had disappeared down the hall.

 

“He’s kind of amazing, in a weird way,” Finn agreed.  “So, public statement?”

 

“Yes,” Leia nodded firmly, pulling a manila folder from her briefcase.  “I think we should pre-record.  There should be no need for interviews.  Luke?”

 

“No, interviews won’t be necessary,” Luke agreed, taking off his suit jacket and moving to remove his cufflinks.

 

“Dad, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

 

Luke raised an eyebrow.  “My son’s life exposed against his will is more important.”

 

*****

 

It was Wednesday night and Finn was losing his mind.  Lando had put him on paid vacation for the week, publicly to give it some time for the initial public attention to die down but Finn knew it was meant as an apology for the pseudonym debacle.  Finn had been all but ordered not to come near the study until next Monday, and after a whirlwind of releasing a written statement to the Washington Post and then recording about fifty takes of his radio release Finn had been relieved to take Tuesday off.  But this was the first _Capitally Curious_ Finn had ever missed, and it was driving him crazy.

 

He had tuned in, which might have been his first mistake.  Why torture himself?  In all honestly, Finn missed it.  He missed Poe too, which he knew was ridiculous because he had been texting to Poe more this week than ever before.  The older man had been furious on Finn’s account and nothing had convinced him that Finn was okay and not actually angry at his cousin.  But Finn hadn’t _seen_ Poe, between hiding himself from the press attention in his apartment and Poe’s classes.  And he figured the next best thing was hearing his voice over the radio.

 

‘ _From the nation’s capital, DC105 presents Capitally Curious; DC’s one and only love and relationship talk show.  And here’s your host, Poe Dameron!_ ’

 

Finn couldn’t help but smile to himself from where he laid across his couch while his dad puttered around in the kitchen.

 

“ _Good evening, everyone_ ,” came Poe’s cheery voice and Finn exhaled heavily.  “ _I hope everyone is having a less crazy week than we are!_ ”

 

“ _Oh, I don’t know_ ,” Iolo’s calm voice replied.  “ _It’s been kinda fun, I think._ ”

 

“ _As you can tell, my usual fantastic co-host is on vacation_ ,” Poe said.  “ _But if you’re a regular listener or not in a coma you probably knew that already.  Filling in this week is my good friend, Iolo_.”

 

“ _Hello!  I’m enjoying doing a show that doesn’t start before dawn_.”

 

“ _He’s had about three Red Bulls, so excuse him if he’s a bit keyed up_ ,” Poe joked.  “ _Now, tonight’s topic is one of the trickier ones.  Is there ever a perfect time to start a relationship?  Specifically--_ ,”

 

“ _Interesting choice_ ,” Iolo interrupted and Finn prompted himself up on his elbows, knowing Poe would have more of an introductory piece prepared.  “ _You know, I’ve noticed something about your topic choices recently, Poe._ ”

 

“ _They’re randomly chosen_ ,” Poe replied, his voice sounding a bit tight.

 

“ _Sure, but they seem to build off each other.  Making the first move, first dates, timing--_ ,”

 

“ _Thanks for your input, Lo_ ,” Poe jumped in.

 

“ _If I could cut in_ ,” Bastian’s voice suddenly chimed in.

 

“ _No, you cannot_ ,” Poe snapped.

 

“ _Please, Bastian, you’ve had the privilege of being a part of every show_ ,” Iolo said with evident joy.

 

“ _Thanks, Iolo.  It’s nice to have a host who appreciates my contribution_ ,” Bastian answered.

 

“ _Bastian, I will buy you milkshakes for a month if you take us to commercial right now_ ,” Poe begged.

 

“ _We have thirty seconds and I’ll talk fast.  I think Poe is trying to take the listeners through the obstacles of starting a relationship.  It’s the scariest part of a relationship, that leap into the unknown.  But if you never try, you’ll never know how mind-blowingly amazing it can be.  Sometimes people need a bit of a push or incentive, and I think that’s what Poe’s aiming to provide_ all _our listeners.  Right, Poe?_ ”

 

“ _Exactly,_ ” Poe said, voice overly bright.  “ _And after this quick commercial break we will continue our journey of self-discovery and love.  I’m Poe Dameron, and this is Capitally Curious._ ”

 

“Finn,” Luke sighed, coming around the side of the couch and clicking Finn’s small radio off.

 

“Dad, I was listening--,”

 

“Were you,” Luke asked pointedly, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table by Finn’s feet.  “Did you hear what I heard?”

 

“Dad, I promise to invite Bastian over and you can talk to him all you want,” Finn sighed, wondering when his dad would get over his fixation on his friend.

 

“Thanks, but that’s not what I meant.”  Luke clasped his hands between his slightly parted knees and sighed.  “Finn, you know love doesn’t have to hurt, don’t you?”

 

Finn frowned.  “What?”

 

“You know that Leia and Han…me…we aren’t exactly models of how relationships can be.  It can be better than that.”

 

“Dad, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Finn said with a shaky smile.  “You’ve done great.”

 

“No, Finn, you need to understand.”  Luke glanced up and gave his son a hard look.  “If you’ve been holding back because all you’ve even seen is bad endings—I’ll never forgive myself.”

 

“Dad--,”

 

“I think there’s someone trying to reach out to you,” Luke continued.  “And I can’t figure out why you haven’t reached back.”

 

“Because there hasn’t been a good time and I was confused and I didn’t even know if he liked me back,” Finn said in a rush.

 

“Finn, I’m going to answer Poe’s question for you,” Luke smiled, nodding towards the radio.  “There is no perfect moment.  You have to make it happen for yourself.  As for not knowing if Poe likes you back…Finn, that’s not in question and I’ve only known him for a few hours.”

 

Finn sat up, facing his dad.  After thinking in silence for a minute he said, “Make it happen for myself, huh?”

 

“That’s the only way,” Luke shrugged.  “You can ask Han about that some time if you want a long story.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“He thought I was dating Leia because he never bothered to ask how we knew each other,” Luke said flatly.

 

Finn snorted.  “To be fair, you two don’t look much alike.”

 

“It’s called fraternal twins,” Luke said, arching an eyebrow.  “Well?”

 

Finn glanced over at the clock on his cable box.  “If I leave now I can make it by the end of the show.”

 

“I won’t wait up,” Luke smiled, leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on Finn’s forehead.  “Drive safe.”

 

*****

 

This was weird and a little crazy and not what Finn did, but he didn’t even think about it as he leaned against Poe’s Fiat, parked conveniently under one of the parking lot lights.  He shifted his weight awkwardly before shoving his hands in his pockets and lifted one of his feet to rest on the bumper.  The show had ended ten minutes ago; Finn hadn’t listened on his way over.  He didn’t need to listen to secondhand advice anymore.

 

The door to the station swung open and Poe stepped out, followed by Iolo and Bastian.  Bastian caught sight of him first (Finn wasn’t even slightly surprised) and smoothly grabbed Iolo around the waist and turned them back into the station while pulling the door closed with his other hand.  Poe didn’t notice until he was at the foot of the three shallow stairs, and then he looked back and then looked around.  Finn knew the exact moment Poe recognized him because Poe’s back snapped straight.  For the lack of anything better to do, Finn raised an arm and waved.

 

“Finn?  What are you doing?  Shouldn’t you be home,” Poe asked, hurrying across the small lot, looking both ways like he was expecting Politico reporters to jump out at them.

 

“Nope, this is exactly where I need to be,” Finn said, with more conviction than he knew he had.

 

“Oh yeah,” Poe asked, chuckling slightly.  “And why’s that?”

 

“Because perfect moments don’t happen.  Because I’ve been waiting for one for a year and it never happened.  Because my life blew up two days ago and I didn’t care as much about that as I care about _this_.”  Finn gulped a deep breath.  “Because I really like you, Poe, and I think we have a shot at being kinda great even if your kitchen is ridiculous and you keep rodents for pets and your roof is going collapse.”

 

Finn cut himself off from rambling any further by pinching his thigh, although the strangely blank look Poe made him want to keep talking until Poe heard something he wanted to hear.  Finally Poe shook his head and glanced up at the sky with a small smile.  “A year.  We’ve been complete idiots for a year.”

 

“So, what would you say if I asked you on a date,” Finn asked, feeling like he could almost breathe again.

 

“I’d say is there any chance we can fit three dates in the next three hours,” Poe said seriously.

 

“Three?  Why?”

 

“Because if I don’t kiss you tonight, I’m going to go insane,” Poe grinned, stepping closer and resting a hand on Finn’s shoulder.  Finn hummed questioningly and Poe added, “Seem to remember something about Shi-Poo-Pi…”   

 

Finn blinked and then burst out laughing, resting his head on Poe’s shoulder and cackling against the older man’s neck.  Poe’s shoulder shook with his own chuckles as his other arm came around Finn’s waist.  “You know,” Finn gasped out, trying to push the bubbling giggles away, “I’ve been listening to this relationship expert…”

 

“Oh, they’re all full of shit,” Poe laughed as Finn looked up.

 

“Yeah, this one is a bit of a hypocrite but he did say this one thing,” Finn smiled, lifting his head up.

 

“Well, share with the class,” Poe teased.

 

“Something about no rules in love,” Finn smirked before closing the last inches of separation and pressing dry lips against soft ones and realizing it could all be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how was that? :)  
> I've got to say, the reaction for this story blows my mind. I never expected the amazing comments and kudos for this story, which really just started from a paragraph in my notes. All of you have made writing this so rewarding and so fun, I can't thank you enough!!  
> This was created as a stand-alone story. But as I've written it, I've got little bits and pieces with these characters (including more Iolo and Bastian) so there is a good chance that this universe will be revisited. :)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I will be aiming for weekly updates. Kudos and comments are welcomed, cherished, and enjoyed! I try to reply to every comment :)


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